POW
by Riza Winters
Summary: Ichigo and Grimmjow are Prisoners of War. Stuck in a prison camp as the war against the Vandenreich seems about to conclude with the enemy's victory, the two reluctant allies are faced with a whole new set of challenges that come with life under prison guard rule. Rebellion is difficult and costly-and so is being the only teenager and hollow in their prison camp...
1. Chapter 1

"What's happening? What is that thing?"

Hordes of bodies swelled around them, pushing forward relentlessly. They had no choice—on all sides guards stood waiting to shoot any stragglers. And dead center in the middle of the pack, two men were pressed shoulder to shoulder, clothes torn, blood drying in orange and blue locks.

"A portal."

"To where?"

"Nowhere we wanna go, Kurosaki."

Ichigo met those blue eyes. Ten months ago, they'd gone at in the desert, nearly killed one another. Then a Vandenreich had attacked them both and they'd been forced to work together to save their own lives. It wasn't long after a similar situation arose, then another, and before they knew it, they were on the same side of a war that had spilled into three different words and threatened to destroy life as they knew it.

Yesterday they'd been shoulder to shoulder in battle once again. And it was together they had finally fallen.

Now they faced their fate—the same one thousands of souls had faced since the near unquestionable victory of the Vandenreich.

"What's going to happen to us, Grimmjow?"

"Same thing as the rest of your damn soul reaper army, and the human one I suppose." Grimmjow glanced around, seeing the mix of souls, many among them humans, just a few of them soul reapers—all of them resistors.

"Prison camp?"

"Yep."

"But you and me…I thought they would have just killed us."

"Their first directive would simply be containment. Then they'll sift through their prisoners to see who might have some value. After that's done, the executions will start."

Ichigo eyed him. Grimmjow had a mind for war. He understood the chilling thought processes of their captors all too well.

They were near the black gap in space now. All the prisoners around them were starting to slow—one last act of resistance before going through.

"We should fight," Ichigo urged.

"They broke your damn sword in two, kid. Not to mention my fuckin' arm."

"We can still fight."

"We'll die."

"Are you giving up?"

"Fuck no. I was just stating the facts. Let's do this."

"On three then. One, two—"

A current of energy shot through them. All those around them staggered as well but it seemed to target Ichigo and Grimmjow. Ichigo felt his legs go numb. He fell but Grimmjow caught his arm, hauling him back up before he was trampled. A few others also fell—all of them wearing uniforms.

"Dammit they neutralized our fucking power," Grimmjow grunted, never letting Ichigo go. The gate was just before them now. Ichigo looked to his companion.

"Shit, what are we gonna do?"

Grimmjow looked between the fast approaching gate, at the guards far to their left and right—masses of people between them. Ichigo saw the defeat register in his features.

"No…"

"Kurosaki, it's gonna be every man for himself in there."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying don't you fuckin' let go of me."

He tugged him closer. Ichigo gripped his arm back tight. The black maw of the portal was just before them. The constant push of prisoners at their back forced them forward.

They went through.

* * *

Ichigo sputtered back to consciousness on rough, hard ground. He felt the dry dirt clinging to his face as he pushed himself up. The sensations further down his body were slow to register, and his eyes were fogged when he finally lifted them to his surroundings.

As his eyes began to focus, the enclosure around him began to grow clear. He at first saw the high tower at the corner of a wall. Shifting, he traced the length of the wall seeing guards and a tower at the next corner as well. They looked to be made of stone and twisting, sharp wire ran along the top of them.

And between these walls were bodies—hundreds of tired, scared, frail looking men, stuffed together like sardines. He suddenly realized he was probably in peril, laying on the ground and all, but then he noticed the figure crouched next to him.

"Grimmjow."

Blue eyes shifted away from the others milling about them and took him in. "Good, you're conscious."

"Yeah." Ichigo sat up, stiffly. He just now began to feel the sharp pain under his ribs, through his shoulders and back. "Shit."

"You passed out as soon as we came through—without your spiritual pressure your wounds from the battle are wearing on you."

"Damn," he said again, but noticed there were several others prostrate around them. Some looked to be resting, others weren't moving at all and there was a heavy odour in the air around them. Those who were injured must have gathered or been forced over this way.

"Here." Grimmjow passed him something that had been clenched in one hand. "Eat this quickly."

It was rock hard, but Ichigo put the lump of crusty bread in his mouth.

"Where'd you get it?" he asked.

"They gave out rations a few hours ago."

"Hours? How long was I out?"

"A day."

"What?!"

Grimmjow just shrugged. His eyes never left those around them. Ichigo wondered if he was worried about the other prisoners, or the armed guards near the wall.

"So can you catch me up?"

Grimmjow had been crouching, as if at the ready to stand and fight on a second's notice, but he seemed to decide they were safe enough for the moment and settled back, sitting next to Ichigo, though his attention was never fully pulled away from the crowd.

"This is what I've gathered: we're waiting to be sorted. We're the freshest batch of prisoners but by the looks of some of these poor bastards, some of them have been here for a while. We probably will too. They took about thirty today—made 'em line up for hours and then sent them packing out those gates—probably to somewhere more permanent."

Ichigo had noticed there were no buildings or facilities here, which undoubtedly added to the rank stench in the air.

"Since we got here, they've only fed us once, and not everybody got to eat at that. There's water commin' from a pipe over there so we at least won't die of dehydration."

"At least," Ichigo breathed, the reality of their situation settling heavily on his shoulders. He kept his head, however, and pushed Grimmjow to continue, knowing their preparedness might be the key to their survival.

"The guards aren't Vandenreich."

Ichigo couldn't help his surprise. His eyes darted back to the guards he had spotted. They were wearing white uniforms, basic, but still in the style of the Vandenreich. In their hands, however, were machine guns and automatics. That was definitely out of character for the bow-and-arrow wielding quincies.

"Who are they then?"

"Humans, s'far as I can tell. The ones who didn't resist, I guess."

"Shit." Ichigo watched a man walk along the ramparts with his weapon at the ready. Was he just imagining it or was there a faint smile on his face? "Traitors," he commented. He had felt this anger for a long time now, ever since the war spilled over onto Earth and hundreds of humans had chosen to join the Vandenreich rather than fight them.

"Survivalists," Grimmjow corrected. Not having anyone left to betray him, he didn't understand Ichigo's fury at the members of his own race.

"So I take it there is no spiritual pressure here."

"None. Whatever they zapped us with got us good and this place is shit out of energy."

"And where are we?"

"Damned if I know. Not in Hueco Mundo anymore, but I don't know if this is some sub-dimension or just some barren-ass wasteland on Earth."

Ichigo cast his eyes upward. It was daylight and there was no roof above them so all he could see was clouded sky. He tried to determine if the sky looked earthly or not. The ground certainly did, yet, some deeper sense in him told him they were not in his homeworld.

"I don't think this is the world of the living."

"Yeah, figures they'd cook up some new shit hole for us to live in."

"So what do we do, Grimmjow?"

Blue eyes turned his way, taking him in completely for the first time since he woke up. "We need to stick together, Kurosaki. We're injured and as much as it pains me to say it, we're fuckin' weak right now. Those fucks could end us with a bullet or these assholes in here with us could kill us over a hunk of bread. We need two eyes open all the time, got that? That means only one of us sleeps at a time and we don't let anyone split us up."

"Okay," Ichigo said it calmly, not giving away his relief to know Grimmjow was going to remain his ally even though circumstances had changed. Even if it was only a survival strategy, Grimmjow needed him as much as Ichigo needed him back.

"Second thing is we got to blend in. Your uniform sticks out too much, as does mine. I've already picked out some clothes, but we'll have to wait until night.

"Wait, where will we get new clothes?"

Grimmjow's eyes cut to the side. Ichigo followed them to the motionless forms that littered the ground all around them.

"Grimmjow—"

"Shut it. This is survival kid, don't get squeamish on me. You can't be Ichigo Kurosaki anymore: no noble shit, no sticking your nose into other people's business and no name. If they're registering people, that means they're keeping track. I don't have the luxury of pretending I ain't the sixth espada."

The tattoo on his back was a dead giveaway, but even if they tried removing that, the fact he was a hollow was unmistakeable.

"Well that's no good. What if they take you somewhere else because you're notorious?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "I can't do much about that, unless we manage to escape this place before our number's up."

"That would be the best scenario," Ichigo admitted. "Much chance of that happening, you think?"

He caught the look in Grimmjow's eye. He'd been surveying the camp for an entire day and Ichigo was sure he had taken in every detail. If there was a way, he probably would have seen it by now. He didn't say this though, he just commented that they'd have to be smart about whatever they did.

"Can you stand?" Grimmjow asked after silence fell between them. "You should get some water."

"Yeah, I'll try." It was hard. Ichigo struggled up and then felt one knee threaten to give, but he made it. This wasn't good—he needed to be strong here, but he was in rough shape. Grimmjow stood next to him, his right arm close to his body. Ichigo only now remembered he'd broken it in battle.

"Oh shit, your arm…" Ichigo would probably get better in a few days, but a broken bone could be crippling in this situation. "If we can find some materials, I'll bind it for you."

"Tonight," Grimmjow said. "When it's dark we'll get what we need."

Night came quickly. Ichigo had managed to get some lukewarm, brown water down his throat, though they'd had to stand in line for over an hour and there was much jostling and shoving around the source of water. He'd watched Grimmjow go rigid and knew it was nothing to do with the pain in his arm—it wasn't in his nature to take shit from anyone and the teen could tell he wanted to brawl right then and there and kick some teeth in—but he didn't, because like he'd explained, blending in was their best shot.

After dark, a few lights came on above them but the yard of bodies was in near total darkness. Ichigo couldn't see more than four feet in front of him but Grimmjow knew just where to go. Ichigo wondered if his night vision was still improved—even without his power. He assumed it was since it was more biological than spiritual. That at least, could be a powerful advantage for them.

It was Grimmjow who stripped the bodies, even though he could only use one arm. Ichigo kept watch as best he could in the dark, making sure no one cared or noticed what they were doing. He was glad for the darkness when it came to changing, but he felt very uneasy about parting with his uniform, especially having it on a dead man's body. He knew that when his powers were restored, it would regenerate, but here in this place, it meant giving up his identity. Even though that was exactly the point of their actions, he was uneasy about it. And he definitely felt sick about wearing a dead man's clothes.

Grimmjow slept through the night. It was only fair as Ichigo had been asleep for a day, though he was exhausted by dawn.

Ichigo felt along the break in Grimmjow's forearm. It wasn't out of place which was a blessing, and would help it heal smoothly assuming it didn't suffer any more damage. Ichigo used a shirt to make Grimmjow a sling but there wasn't anything to be used as a splint. Grimmjow was hesitant to advertise his weakness but Ichigo assured him it was the only way to keep it protected and therefore help it heal faster. Besides, he wasn't the only one with makeshift bandages holding him together.

When this was finished, Ichigo had his first chance to take in his new clothes in daylight. They didn't smell great and they were dirty, but so was everyone's clothes. He wore green cargo pants, a black shirt and a light coat. One pocket weighed heavily and he drew out the wallet. It was heavy with coins that would be useless now, but he flipped through the plastic cards until he got to the id.

"He was the same age as me." Ichigo read the card with great sadness. "Eighteen." Another card showed him he'd been a student at one of their rival high schools—one that was closely matched with them in sports and always drew a boisterous crowd.

"Satoru Yoshida. Same height as me too…you have a good eye." Grimmjow had picked out the bodies he thought would best fit them. Now he glanced down at the photo on the card.

"Is that him?"

"Yeah, it's his id card."

"Do all humans have those?"

"Yeah."

"Damn, that's how they're going to keep track of you. Too bad you don't look a thing like that guy."

"Mmm." Ichigo was listening but he couldn't help stare at the photo of the young man whose clothes he now wore. Seventeen. Human. All he'd done was resist them, and now he was dead. He must have suffered a blow to the head, since there was no blood on his clothes. He'd died slowly too, as Grimmjow had watched him and others pass away around them during the day he'd watched over Ichigo.

"Get rid of that." Grimmjow snatched the card and tossed it in the crowd. "Maybe they won't question it if there's no picture."

"Maybe…" Ichigo familiarized himself with the contents of the wallet. A movie stub from half a year ago, when the world was still normal. A photo of a young girl with braids and braces. A sister, perhaps. Then another, ink on the back telling of a relationship. But her boyfriend would never be coming home.

Ichigo pocketed the wallet. Anything of use to fight had been removed from the boy on his way in, but there was still a cracked ipod in his pocket. It wouldn't turn on. Ichigo tossed this as well.

"How about you, anything in your pockets?" Ichigo asked Grimmjow. The espada wore blue jeans (which he clearly was not finding comfortable by the way he kept shifting around) a dirt streaked white t-shirt and canvas jacket. The owner of his clothes had obviously been injured in the arm since there was a slash through one sleeve. It worked out well that it was the same sleeve that hung empty on account of Grimmjow's broken arm.

"Smokes but no light."

"No id?"

"No, but this is kind of a giveaway." He pointed to his face. Having the civilian clothing would help him blend in and remain anonymous in the crowd or from a distance, but as soon as anyone looked him straight on they would know he wasn't human.

They moved away from the bodies. It was the calmest part of the yard but the scent was getting worse and eventually they would get sick being too close to them. This, however, meant they had to remain in the rest of the yard that was tightly packed. Sitting was nearly impossible unless you managed to get a place along the wall which was of course the most popular spot.

They went the whole day without food and Ichigo felt sick for hunger when they found spot to sit down for the night. Some people did manage to lay down, but it was physically impossible for everyone to do so at the same time. Still, they did all manage to sit, and the yard became eerily still when darkness finally took over. There was of course, still lots of noise, from those talking, or cursing or coughing. There was a fight somewhere but it ended quickly with a terrible scream. No one moved or spoke much after that. Grimmjow and Ichigo sat back to back. There was nowhere else for them to lean but on each other. Someone had stretched out at Ichigo's feet, and others were also propped up, sitting hunched but by themselves. Ichigo wondered how many people were here alone—who didn't know anyone or their friends had died. He shivered at the thought and clutched the weight in his pocket.

 _I'm sorry you died, Satoru Yoshida. Thank you for your clothes. Be at peace._

Ichigo opened his eyes from his silent prayer but it was difficult, he was losing himself to sleep.

"Go ahead," Grimmjow said at his back. "I'll wake you in a few hours."

"Okay."

It was the most uncomfortable sleep of his life—so far. He was sure he was in for many others if they didn't get out of here soon. Not only was his body still stiff and sore and their sleeping arrangement painfully uncomfortable, but his stomach pained him. His body was trying to heal and all it had gotten for fuel in three days was that one lump of bread. Everyone was feeling that same pain. They were angry and restless but those guns ever trained on them kept them from trying anything desperate.

It was infuriating that just so few could control so many by the simple fact they had guns.

At noon, food came. It was chaos. Ichigo stood and watched people turn violent, pulling and pushing one another, desperate to get whatever was being given. He had no desire to debase himself for food, despite the pain in his stomach. He watched grown men turn into animals and screams erupted. Fists flew and when people went down, that was it, they were trampled.

"What do we do?" Ichigo asked Grimmjow who had somehow secured them food the first day.

"Just wait."

Ichigo did. He watched a large man wrestle his way out of the crowd, clutching something to his chest. He'd managed to come away with not just one piece of bread but a whole loaf. Ichigo stared at the plastic bag and label and realized it was store-bought. It should seem insane but instead it was devastating. Not only had the war caused damage to their world, but now the Vandenreich were learning to control factories, use production to their advantage, for example, feed their hordes of prisoners.

"Oh god…" Ichigo felt sick but then Grimmjow pushed him aside and the next thing the large man was on the ground, spitting teeth. Grimmjwo didn't give him a second before a boot was in his gut.

"Grimmjow stop!" But the espada was done. He pried the loaf from the man and tore it open with one hand. He was smart enough not to take it all like this man had—others were just as ready to swarm him for it but he tossed more than half away before he could be attacked.

"Quick." Grimmjow shoved two slices into Ichigo's hand. He himself managed to get his two slices down in mere seconds. "EAT IT!"

Ichigo did. He felt a swell of guilt consuming the second slice when others wouldn't get it, but all around him was blood thirsty chaos. He couldn't even offer it to someone without risking being swarmed. So he ate it all, just as fast as Grimmjow, and his stomach burned with the sudden introduction of food. He felt his gut clench and cramp up.

"Water," Grimmjow instructed. It was the best time to go as everyone was attacking the food. They drank as much as they could from the filthy pipe then snagged a spot along the wall while it was bare. They stayed there all day just so they could keep it for the night. They slept on and off all afternoon, having nothing better to do. That evening more were rounded up, made to stand in line at gunpoint and then ushered beyond the gate just before dusk. Ichigo and Grimmjow watched the whole process carefully, hoping to see an exit strategy, but the guards carried out their routines flawlessly. These men had been trained by the Vandenriech and they were just as cold and efficient as them.

This carried on for the next ten days. Hunger became a constant, they were only fed every other day. Grimmjow continued to get them more than their share of food, however, and Ichigo ate it just as guiltily every time. In the calm, he would look over gaunt faces. He would see the bodies of those who were trampled and those who had fought each other. Each morning a few more people didn't wake. If they'd been here for a long time, many probably succumbed to sickness or hunger. Ichigo was sure he wouldn't be doing as well without Grimmjow. He wouldn't have been able to get the food for sure.

They learned to block out a lot of uncomfortable things—like passing their bowels near dead bodies and with a yard of hundreds of men before them. The stench of the place became so constant they almost forgot about it. The water even stopped tasting as foul. Ichigo got accustomed to feeling someone else's breath on his neck at night when they crammed together to sit or lay if they were lucky. Sometimes at night he would hear grunts and groans and he knew what the sounds meant, he just wasn't sure if it was consensual or not.

It was on the morning after that tenth night they burned the bodies. The air became thick with ash and smoke. Ichigo couldn't believe the guards did it there, in the yard, right next to them. But they did. The prisoners all backed up, forming a tight mob against the opposite side of the wall. That was almost the worst part of it, because they were so jammed together. But it wasn't the worst. The worst was the screams. Not just one, but three or four—some of the bodies hadn't been quite dead yet when they began to burn them.

Ichigo shut his eyes then. He pictured Satoru Yoshida, bloated beyond recognition, and now cooking and blackening. His hair singing and frying. His organs melting. Ichigo's uniform burning up where it was forced on his body.

And those poor souls who hadn't quite left this world in there too.

He felt a hand clench around his arm. Grimmjow had been holding onto him since the crowd had moved back, afraid they would get separated, and now that steel grip tightened ever so slightly.

Even the heartless espada wasn't immune to the gruesome scene.

When the ash settled, and only bones were left, they ordered the prisoners to clean. Whoever was unlucky enough to be at the front of the crowd was forced to sweep away what was left and clear the scorched ground. It took all day. Ichigo and Grimmjow were lucky enough not to have to do it. They remained standing, however, for the better part of eight hours as there was nowhere else for them to go until the job was done. Then they spread out. Reluctantly, people spread into the cleared area of the sick and dead. Many others had left in the last few days as well, so for the first time, everyone was able to lay down at night.

But not everyone did. Ichigo wasn't sure if it was the fire or what, but Grimmjow stayed awake that entire night.

* * *

 _ **Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. This isn't supposed to be a torture/suffering-driven story, but one about the camaraderie of fellow soldiers in trying times, not just Grimmjow and Ichigo but the other people they will meet. A bit of a different tone than my other stories, but just as dark and violent I assure you ;) Please "follow" if you are interested,**_

 _ **thanks,**_

 _ **Riza.**_


	2. Chapter 2

"They aren't separating us by race."

Ichigo was just waking. It was five days after the burning and no more prisoners had come through yet. The exodus, however, continued each day and soon it would have to be their turn.

"When they take them, they examine them, then divide them up—those who stay and those who go. The only ones who stay are the ones who are sick or injured."

"What? I hadn't noticed." Ichigo didn't have Grimmjow's iron will to constantly watch the goings on near the gate. He found hunger and other discomforts distracting him.

"So they won't separate us based on me being an espada and you being whaterver the fuck you are." Grimmjow had listened once to Ichigo's attempted explanation about the composition of his soul. He settled with human-soul reaper, but now that Ichigo was powerless in soul form, neither really knew what he was—was he currently a soul reaper or a human? And what would the guards think when they examined him? Would they have a way to tell he was a soul and not the human Satoru Yoshida whom he was pretending to be?

Then something else occurred to Ichigo.

"Oh shit, your arm."

"I know." Grimmjow bit out. He must have been dwelling on this for a long time. Whereas Ichigo's worst injury had been the breaking of his sword along with the ensuing beat down—he'd broken no bones and once he was past the exhaustion, his body had mended itself. Grimmjow's arm, however, was a much longer-term issue.

"I just have to get through that exam."

"You think you can?"

"Depends what they need us to do."

"Yeah I guess. What if they don't take us at the same time?"

"They seem to just be gathering up clusters of people—whoever's already grouped together. So long as we stay together we should be okay."

"Okay."

There was nothing more to say after that. They returned to watching the process of selection, rejection and exodus. Still they saw no weak point they could exploit once those gates were open.

When they hit the three week mark, and Ichigo leaned against the hard rock wall while Grimmjow slept, he considered which he feared more: being selected or staying in this place much longer. His waist had shrunken considerably. The burn of hunger ate away at him every hour of every day, even though there were less prisoners now to fight for food. The cold was starting to get to him as well. With no roof over their heads there was nothing protecting them from the elements save the high walls. He saw some people huddle together at night but Grimmjow certainly wasn't about to do that with him. Besides, they never slept at the same time anyway, which was in itself, exhausting.

"Do you think the next place will be better or worse?" he asked Grimmjow when he woke.

"Not sure. Based on the fact they seem to be selecting healthy people to move on, I'm guessing they have do labour. But that might also mean more food and better shelter."

"Oh."

Grimmjow turned to him. He was calm, as he always was. Nothing about their situation seemed to faze him much. He patiently watched the guards and routines every day, looking for his chance to escape. Ichigo tried to be like him but found it hard. He was constantly worrying about what might happen next—when they would be selected, where they would go.

"Our best chance of escape will be in transition from here to there," Grimmjow went on. Ichigo was sure the espada could see his emotional turmoil but he never addressed it. "Once we get through those gates, keep your eyes peeled for signs of where we are and where we might go if we did get free. Also take note of the guards and their weapons. Between us we should be able take account of any weak points in their system."

"And what if we don't?"

"Don't panic. I'll be damned if I let myself get done in by a fuckin' bullet. But those damn things will cut us down no matter how powerful we were out there. So whatever we do, we play this smart."

Again, Ichigo was surprised Grimmjow hadn't lost his cool by now and done something violent and reckless. But then it occurred to him that Grimmjow only had one thing to lose in all of this—and that was his life. He didn't have a single ally left out there in the universe—not counting Ichigo. But once the war was over, they too would go their separate ways. Grimmjow had no friends, family or home to get back to. So he could afford be patient and bide his time. Ichigo, however, had a lot of faces he wanted to see again, and he was worried about what might happen without him there to help protect them. Still, he understood the value of Grimmjow's strategy.

"If it is a labour camp, that means a lot of movement and access to tools. We'll be able to find a way out."

"You sound pretty confident."

"What, you think these assholes are going to keep me caged for long?"

Ichigo nodded. "No I don't."

"Exactly."

It was mere hours after this conversation that armed guards moved their way and they were roped into the next group to line up for inspection.

Grimmjow had ditched his sling the moment he saw them coming. He gritted his teeth and never gave a hint that he was injured. They were interviewed separately. Ichigo gave up the wallet upon their demand and was officially recorded as Satoru Yoshida next to the picture they snapped of him. He noticed that they carefully copied down information found in the wallet and asked him to confirm certain details (which he had memorised). He wondered how extensively they would check to make sure he was who he said. He supposed this system was in place to prevent him doing exactly what he was doing—hiding his identity as the teen soul reaper who had the potential to face Yhwach himself.

They forced him to strip to his underwear, checked his clothes and body for weapons and then let him redress. When they were finished, they took his wrist and used a device that looked like a gun to implant something beneath the skin.

"That's your identity now," they informed him. "And don't think of trying to take it out—you'll kill yourself if you do."

With that, they shoved him through the doors and a guard grabbed his arm steering him toward a group of men waiting under gunpoint near the door.

He was unbelievably relieved when Grimmjow was forced into the same group as him. They waited in silence. They watched an elderly man get shoved back toward the rest of the camp. Not long after a younger man with a limp joined him. Ichigo turned to Grimmjow. His face was set. No doubt the implantation had significantly hurt due to his broken arm but he hid it well.

"Did they say anything about you being a hollow?"

"Dumb humans didn't know I was an espada. They recorded my description so eventually someone might catch on but as far as I know they didn't know who I was, just a freak to them—didn't even want my fuckin' name."

Ichigo supposed hollows' names would be meaningless as there were no records to check them against.

"Anyway, soon as we're out that gate it's our best chance, don't forget."

"Of course." They stood another twenty minutes or so but they'd been near the end and as soon as everyone was in single file they escorted them to the gates. Ichigo was behind Grimmjow, a fact that gave him some comfort as he would be able to watch the espada and see when he chose to make his move.

The gates opened. He saw Grimmjow's entire body tense and then a soft curse drop from his lips.

"What—" but Ichigo moved just enough to see. At the entrance to the gate, fit so tight there was no getting around it, was the open end of a box car on a transport truck. Grimmjow probably didn't know what it was in detail, but he knew enough to see they had no opportunity to get away.

"It's a vehicle," Ichigo whispered. They weren't supposed to talk so Grimmjow didn't respond but he looked from side to side, clearly assessing their options.

There were none. With guns trained on them from all sides, they were forced to march ahead and up the ramp into the back of the truck like cattle. They were made to push in all the way and make room for everyone. Then someone hit a release, the back door slammed down and total darkness enveloped them.

"Fuck." Grimmjow groped out and grabbed Ichigo's arm to make sure they stayed close. "What the hell is this thing?"

"A transport truck. They must have brought this through."

"Unless this is the world of the living after all."

"Maybe it's a shadow universe, like the ones the Vandenreich made in soul society…but now we won't know where we're going. We won't know how to get back here."

"Great, 'cause as far as we know, the only gateway to this place is through that camp."

They quieted after this and managed to sit. The road jostled them and they bumped into the other souls around them. Someone began to shout, panicking in the dark and the unknown that awaited them. After a while, someone else shut him up. Ichigo tensed but there was nothing he could do. Besides, he wanted the man to be quiet too.

They travelled for hours in the dark. Some people were sick from the motion and the truck began to reek with the stench of stomach acid. Ichigo began to feel his own stomach turn. Then he felt something else next to him.

"Ah shit!" He stood and bumped into the man who decided to relieve himself right next to Ichigo. The man grabbed him around the throat and not only did more piss get on Ichigo but he got a punch to the face. He fell into someone else who caught him and then he was pressed against the side of the truck where he heard the man gasp out in pain. There was a thud and then quiet.

"Grimmjow?"

"Shit you stink. Move." He felt a shove and moved down the wall, bumping into others but distancing himself from the urine.

In the end, most of them were sick, including Ichigo and Grimmjow who became just as overwhelmed as everyone else by the disorienting dark and endless motion combined with the overpowering stench.

When the truck stopped and the doors opened, everyone pushed to be first out. This resulted in several people falling from the truck lip and consequently being booted by the guards waiting for them. The rest were ordered to come out single file while at gun point.

Ichigo stood outside the truck, breathing in fresh air. It was night time and cold but he could still see the structure before him. It was large—high walls just like the last one, and he couldn't tell what kind of conditions they would find inside.

"Single file through the doors." The order was barked. They followed the guards in the door where they were made to stand while further instructions were delivered. "You sons of bitches lucked out." The guard began, a burley man in his forties. He looked like he might have been former military of some sort, or maybe he'd just always wanted to have a gun and a uniform and order people around.

"You got chosen to be in one of the finest camps. Good food. Good accommodations. So long as you do what you're told. There's work and lots of it. Obey and work hard and you'll survive.

I'm the Captain of this establishment. Call me Captain Yota. You will be permitted into a bunker tonight but only after you clean the filth from yourselves."

He motioned to the wall. "Line up."

Grimmjow and Ichigo looked at one another. They were both resistant as they knew what was coming but they didn't have a choice. Someone gave Grimmjow a rough shove and he was forced forward against the wall. Ichigo followed, facing the stone.

"Strip."

"Fuck," he whispered. He didn't move at first. Neither did Grimmjow or the others. "STRIP!" The shot cracked through the air and once again it was Grimmjow who got the brunt of the anger. Someone grabbed him by the hair and pinned him face first while another pressed the still hot tip of his rifle against his temple.

"Do it now!'

Ichigo watched his jaw clench. He was using every ounce of his reserve to hold himself together. If he lost his grip now and attacked these men, he'd be mowed down by ten others.

Slowly he drew his hands up and began to pull off his coat.

"You too!" Someone yanked Ichigo's jacket from his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. He took over after that, baring his chest.

Everyone complied after that until they were naked in a line. Then the water hit—freezing cold and harsh. Ichigo had seen this in movies about prison so he'd expected it. Some small part of him was glad to get some of the filth off his body but the rest of him reeled at the ice cold spray and the humiliation of being hosed down like an animal.

"Clothes!" Ichigo understood eventually and held up their clothes. He hoped this was just the initial way to wash them and that there would be a better means once routines were established. The hose blasted through the fabric and took away most of the dirt and piss in them. When it was done they were all gasping but they were not permitted inside yet. The Captain took a long slow walk before them, looking them up and down without shame.

He paused at Ichigo for a moment. Ichigo didn't know what that meant. Then he stopped before Grimmjow.

"They sent me a fuckin' hollow." He eyed the hole in Grimmjow's midriff. "You're disgusting."

Blue eyes narrowed but he never said a word. The captain smiled. "Ah, so a little more intelligent than your predecessors…the other hollows in this place did not last long. We'll see if you can hold out a bit longer."

He moved on. Ichigo looked at Grimmjow. Neither fully understood the captain's words but they were unsettling. When he finally finished his inspection, they were guided inside one of the bunk houses. It was large and long and all that Ichigo could see for the moment were rows and rows of bunk beds.

"Choose a bunk. Dry your clothes. Work begins in the morning."

"This way," Grimmjow ordered Ichigo at once and while the rest were still looking befuddled he claimed one of the few bunks near a window.

"Why here?"

"So we can watch the movement of the guards at night," he said as if Ichigo was thick. The teen couldn't believe how quickly Grimmjow could process what they needed to do, despite the shock and humiliation they'd just gone through.

"Hang up your clothes."

"Are we just supposed to hang around naked?"

"Naked is the least of our problems kid." He dressed the bed frame with his soaking clothes. Ichigo eventually did the same. Everyone else was finally getting out of their trances and doing likewise.

"Grimmjow, how are you so calm?"

Grimmjow finished hanging his shirt and turned to him. "Because I have to be. And so do you."

"Yeah I know but—"

"No buts, Kurosaki. You hold it together or we're both fucked, you hear me?"

Ichigo watched the hostility in blue eyes. He just nodded.

"Good, now take the fuckin' top bunk and go to sleep."

"You taking first watch?"

"I'll do tonight. I want to get a feel for this place."

"If you're sure."

Ichigo didn't bother arguing. Grimmjow knew his limits. If he wanted to sit up all night watching the guards' movements Ichigo would let him. He was much better at memorising their patterns anyway.

He climbed up the bunk and lay down on a bed for the first time in weeks. The mattress was so thin he could feel the rungs beneath him and the pillow and blanket were equally thin and uncomfortable. But he had his own space, for the first time since arriving. He didn't have to feel strangers bumping next to him in the night, even Grimmjow's constant presence at his side.

But at the same time the noises in this place were different. It was quiet in a way that suggested everyone in the room was too exhausted to worry or fight. It shouldn't be that way. They had all just done what they were told because they had no choice while the guns were on them. Now though, they could have at least talked, even in the boxcar they could have worked as a group and made plans to escape.

But they didn't because Grimmjow was right. In here, it was every man for himself. They weren't even united by race or homeworld. They were such a mix of humans, soul reapers and hollows who had all gotten captured for different reasons. They didn't all fight for the same cause.

Maybe that's how the Vandenreich had crushed them so completely.

Ichigo felt a rush of heat behind his eyes. No, he wouldn't do it. Grimmjow would hear him and think he was weak and if Grimmjow ever decided he was better off without the teen, Ichigo didn't know what he'd do. His body might be able to endure just as much as the espada's but he wasn't sure his heart and mind could handle doing all of this alone.

He shut his eyes, finally, and tried to rest before he had to face the troubles of a new day.

* * *

 _ **Thanks so much for reviewing the first chapter. It's always great to know there is interest in a story! To answer some of your questions:**_

 _ **Yes I am drawing on some historical details I've read in the accounts of prisoners of war or learned about in history class. I really wanted this story to feel "real" in a way, but still cannon.**_

 _ **And yes Grimmjow's hollow hole and mask are there.**_

 _ **No, this will not be a romance between the boys, but a very close friendship.**_

 _ **Thanks again,**_

 _ **Riza**_


	3. Chapter 3

"Dammit." Ichigo and Grimmjow stood shoulder to shoulder in the line-up of man listening to the instructions for the work they would have to be doing. Ichigo's eyes swept left and right, taking in those around him. He saw many hard faces, strong backs and shoulders. They were chosen for their strength. The other thing he noticed was they were all older than him. He hadn't seen many teens in the camp save Saturo Yoshida whom he now pretended to be.

Anyone much younger, maybe fourteen and under, had been detained with other children, maybe even with the women. Ichigo wasn't sure why they had been separated out until Girmmjow had stated it was easier to manage them separately.

Now they stood before a deep cut in the earth full of milling men, carts, shovels and pickaxes. All along the edges men with guns stood watch as the men laboured, cutting out limestone from the walls of the quarry. All Ichigo could think was this was so unnecessary. Why would they need limestone? Why wouldn't they use machines from the world of the living?

But as Grimmjow would explain to him later, it was to make sure the prisoners stayed busy—too busy to think of escape. Too tired to fight their captors.

It was the grim reality for sure but Ichigo's first thought was how in the world was Grimmjow going to work with his broken arm?

It had been barely over three weeks since it had broken. As far as Ichigo could tell, it was healing well but he wouldn't be ready to use it for strenuous work like this.

The instructions finished. They turned in their line and filed down into the quarry. Ichigo was directed to a wheelbarrow, Grimmjow was given a pickaxe. Ichigo watched him calculate the possibility of survival if he swung his axe at the head of the man who handed it to him. Blue eyes flicked up to the snipers on patrol. He let out a breath and continued on with the rest of the men.

It was grueling work. It took everything Ichigo had to move the wheelbarrow once it was full. He passed Grimmjow several times, each time trying to figure out how he could possibly be swinging the axe until he realized he was really only using the strength of one arm while the other simply gripped the handle. It was impressive but he wouldn't be able to keep it up for long and his face already revealed his pain.

That night they both sat on Grimmjow's bunk with their bowls of cold stew, eating in silence. The Captain hadn't lied about the food—it wasn't very tasteful but they were given enough to fuel them for their work and they didn't have to fight one another for it anymore. All around them other tired men also sat on their beds or leaned against a wall and ate in silence.

When Ichigo finished, Grimmjow was still only half done. He noticed how his hand trembled as it brought the spoon up to his lips. His right rested limp in his lap.

"Shit, Grimmjow how bad is it?"

"What difference does it make?" he muttered, but it was clear he was in enough pain he didn't even want to eat. He finished though, knowing nothing was worth giving up food.

"Can I at least look at it?" Ichigo took Grimmjow's bowl from him then reached out for his arm. Grimmjow flinched the moment his fingers touched it. Ichigo finally got it pulled out straight, feeling along the break for further damage. Grimmjow sat in silence but his body was tensed with the pain.

"It's still in place," Ichigo said. "But it really needs to be supported somehow."

"We can't or they'll know and if I can't do the work we don't know what they'll do."

"Maybe they'll just give you another job."

"Or they'll ship me off with the other weaklings."

Ichigo sighed and released Grimmjow's arm. It was true, they had no idea what their captors would do with someone incapable of working. Ichigo supposed they would find out sooner or later as someone was sure to tire of their labour or get sick. They might also ask the other men who'd been here before them, except that they seemed tight lipped and reserved.

"Why this?" Ichigo asked. "Why not just a giant prison to put us all in. Wouldn't that make more sense?"

Grimmjow had clearly been thinking this over as well. He explained his best guess to Ichigo.

"Someday this war is going to end—the very last resistors will fall and then the Vandenreich will have to decide what to do with us. They'll probably pick out the ones like you and I and kill us rather than risk us making trouble. But the rest they'll give a choice. After enough time slaving away here, they'll want an alternative. They'll embrace what the Vandenreich give them. Whereas in a prison, we'd all be angry. We'd be spending out time talking about how we hate the Vandenreich and perpetuating our hatred to the point we'd never accept anything they offered. This way we'll be simply too tired to care about our pride by the time the offer is made."

Ichigo stared at him when he was finished. Was that really it? Was this all just so that they'd become willingly subservient to the Vandenreich in the end? His hands clenched around his bowl in anger. He dropped his eyes to the floor, overwhelmed by what Grimmjow had said.

"We won't let them do that to us."

"Of course not," Grimmjow said in his usual confident way. Maybe that's why he was always so calm—he simply had no doubt they would find a way to escape.

"Tell me what we're going to do then."

"Count."

"Count?"

"Yes. Count how many guards there are so we know how many bullets we need."

Ichigo lifted his head again. "You're going to shoot them all?"

"Well a fuckin' pickaxe ain't gonna cut it. We need to count how many bullets we need then figure out how many guns that is. We also need to memorise the guards, their faces and their usual positions so that when it goes down, we know just who's where and we can end it with as few casualties as possible."

"Wait, what?"

"Oh yeah, we also need to recruit. It's gonna take more than just the two of us."

"Hold on. I thought we were going to escape, not throw ourselves into a suicidal fight against the guards."

"Escaping _is_ suicide. Taking over this camp, however, is possible and our only chance. Then we have access to their vehicle, their supplies and we can get ourselves back into a fuckin' spiritual realm."

Ichigo absorbed this. Kill all those people? Plan a coup without getting caught? None of it sounded very plausible but he was pretty sure Grimmjow wouldn't suggest it if there was an alternative.

"There's just one thing," he continued.

"What?"

"It's going to take time, kid. We need to know this place inside out and we need to know who we can trust to help us do this. It's not going to happen overnight so I need to know you can hold it together in the meantime."

"Of course I can." Ichigo wished he could pretend Grimmjow had no reason to doubt him. "Grimmjow I'll do what I have to, to win this war."

Grimmjow snorted. "This ain't winnin' the war, kid. The war's over, even if some people haven't stopped fighting. We get out here first, then we see what we can do to overthrow the universe's new overlord."

"Great, and how long will that take?"

Grimmjow shook his head. "We'll worry about that when it comes to it. For now, worry about counting."

He rolled back on the bed. Ichigo took their dishes and washed them then made his way up to his bunk as well. He would have to lie here awake for the next few hours if not the whole night, but if that was the price to pay for their freedom he'd pay in full each time.

* * *

At the end of their first week, they were made to line up in front of the wall again. Ichigo wondered why but he saw even those who'd been here longer did the same. They automatically raised their hands against the walls and pressed their palms firmly against the rough surface above their heads while they stood with their feet spread.

"Inspection," Grimmjow hissed to Ichigo, knowing he hadn't figured it out yet. "No doubt their doing the bunks as well."

Ichigo nodded and they followed suit when the guards barked at them. It made sense. If they were plotting anything it wouldn't be too hard to hide things under mattresses or pillows.

Or in their clothing.

The Captain followed his men along the line as they inspected each prisoner, doing a pat down like police or prison guards would do. Ichigo tensed when they got to Grimmjow. He could see it in the captain's face out of the corner of his eye where he watched.

"He's got an extra place to hide things," The captain reminded his men. They understood and yanked Grimmjow's coat from him, then wrestled him out of his shirt. Grimmjow's whole body was tensed with the restraint it took not to lash out at them.

"Look how well he's trained." The captian mused, also seeing Grimmjow's struggle for self-control as he was held between two guards. "Well, come on, let's have a look in that hole."

Even though it was easily evident there was nothing inside, the captain reached into Grimmjow's hollow space and ran his hand along the inside.

Grimmjow made no noise but his jaw clenched tight. Ichigo knew that to cut a hollow along their hole could kill them. Perhaps such a vulnerable place was also sensitive. Or perhaps he was just struggling to contain his rage.

"What a creature…a freak of nature." Captain Yota went on. "After the others died, I cut them open, to see what was inside. Will I find the same inside of you? You're the most human-looking of them all. Are you also heartless?"

He pulled his hand out from Grimmjow's middle and raised his voice. "You would all do well to avoid this one. He's not the same as you, understand? He's an animal."

He looked like he was about to walk away but then he drove his fist forward, right under Grimmjow's sternume, making him double. The guards holding him let him go and he dropped to his knees, gasping.

"Sorry, but I couldn't help myself." Yota smiled and moved on to Ichigo. "And you. Why is it that you choose to be in the company of such a creature? I see you two together often."'

His hands slid to Ichigo's neck and he began to pat him down like the other prisoners had been.

"We arrived in the first camp together," Ichigo answered. "I don't know anyone else."

Hands slid under his shoulders and down the front of his chest. Ichigo had been watching the other inspections—none had been as slow and careful as this. He felt his breath shaking in his chest as the captain slid his hands under his coat, pressing down the front of his t-shirt. His grip was firmer than it needed to be.

"You're not gay are you?"

"Wh-what?" The hands came down to his waist and settled there, holding his hips.

"I mean, are you letting that freak fuck you?"

Ichigo jolted when the captain's hands slid lower. He continued with the rouse of patting him down, but his smile was dark as his hands moved slowly over places no one else had been searched. Ichigo looked away from the captain, face flushing with rage and shame. Grimmjow had been forced back against the wall, still on his knees. He met his eyes a moment, but couldn't hold his gaze.

"All clean," Yota said, withdrawing finally from the teen. "You be careful, Yoshida. You're our youngest occupant, did you know? And there are some who will start to get lonely in their beds. Make sure you don't end up in his." He turned back to Grimmjow for a moment then smiled. "I'll be seeing you soon."

He continued on down the line now. Ichigo's breath had grown short and fast. He swallowed hard, controlling himself. When the inspection was over, he brought his hands down from the wall and looked to Grimmjow. He was going to help him up but the other shook his head and stood on his own, gathering his clothes. They filed back inside to their bunks. Grimmjow redressed, sitting heavily on the side of his bed. Ichigo stood at the window, watching Yota return to his quarters. In the reflection of the window, he noticed a few of the other prisoners watching them.

Shit. This would mean they wouldn't want to associate with Grimmjow. How were they supposed to get recruits now?

But somehow that wasn't what was bothering him as he peeled off his coat for bed. He felt a ghost of the fingers that had run along his body.

He was afraid of what Yota might really want from him.

He sat down next to Grimmjow. There was no point pretending they weren't close.

"What do we do?" he whispered.

"Nothing," The espada shot out bitterly. "That fucker can do whatever he wants to us, so don't you give him a reason, Kurosaki. Understand?"

"…yeah."

He could see the tension still in Grimmjow. It was killing him to have to take Yota's shit. Ichigo wondered if Grimmjow was so good at controlling himself because he'd had to do it before—for Aizen.

"Kurosaki."

"Yeah?"

"If he ever goes at me, don't try to interfere."

"What?"

"I won't interfere to help you either, get it? We can't let him weaken us both at the same time. If something happens to me, you have to be the strong one and vice versa. It's the only way we'll make it."

Ichigo processed this. It made sense but it made him feel sick. He wasn't sure he could watch them hurt Grimmjow when the time came to it but he agreed. Then he asked Grimmjow a question that had been bothering him.

"Grimmjow, why were you so ready to team up with me?"

"You don't understand? I can't stay awake 24/7."

"So you need me."

"As much as you need me, asshole."

"I don't mean it like that. I mean, you trust me."

"Of course I fuckin' trust you."

This caught Ichigo completely off guard. "You what?"

"What? Why wouldn't I? You're the most trustworthy fuck in the universe. You never lie, even to your enemies, even if it means you'll get killed. You're the most naïve, son of bitch I've ever met, I know you'll never betray me."

Ichigo stared at him, then he shook his head and smiled, putting Grimmjow's logic together. It was funny, because it actually made sense. Grimmjow looked at him as if he were crazy.

"Don't crack up on me."

"I won't, Grimmjow, I promise. We'll get out of here."

"Damn straight. I'll take first watch."

"Okay." Ichigo climbed up to his bunk. Despite the events just moments ago, he succumbed to sleep quickly, knowing he only had a small window in which to get some.

* * *

 ** _Thanks for all the kind words! Just FYI: I'm going to up the rating on this story to Mature soon, to be safe._**

 ** _Thanks,_**

 ** _Riza_**


	4. Chapter 4

Yota's dislike for Grimmjow only grew after that day. It seemed that since he couldn't get a rise out of the hollow, he became even angrier. Almost daily he found a reason for Grimmjow to have to work longer, be searched more often, or simply let the guards beat on him. They never left him in a state he couldn't work. His arm, however, couldn't take a hit so Grimmjow forever had to try and let some other part of his body absorb the blows.

Ichigo was often there, but like Grimmjow had said, he couldn't do anything. And more often than not, Yota would look at him and smile, like he knew he was hurting the teen as well.

In the bunk house, everyone avoided them. Though he and Grimmjow carried on counting and memorising every possible detail, it would amount to nothing if they couldn't get a handful of others to join them.

At five weeks since their initial capture, Grimmjow's arm was finally healed enough it didn't pain him to work, though sore ribs and a black eye did. Ichigo thought they were finally turning a corner when Yota showed up at the bunk house one evening and pointed to Grimmjow.

Everyone made way for him to come through.

"What is it?" Grimmjow asked tiredly, showing no concern for whatever was about to come.

"Honestly? I'm just in a mood."

He let fly with a fist. Grimmjow staggered, but didn't go down. Instead he raised his eyes again, a fire in them that caused Yota to hesitate. Then he smiled, because he finally saw Grimmjow's true, unmasked anger.

"I knew you couldn't contain it forever. The moment you strike me, is the moment you die."

Guns came up from the other guards. Several prisoners scrambled away. Only Ichigo stayed at his side.

Yota waved to him. "You, move."

Ichigo hesitated. He knew the plan but he also knew that by coming in here, Yota had a purpose. He wasn't going to let up after a couple of hits this time.

"Yoshida!" It took a moment for Ichigo to respond to his fake name. Yota was staring directly at him. "Move."

He still didn't. Yota snapped his fingers and two of the guards grabbed him, hauling him back and holding him.

Then Yota began.

Ichigo didn't want to watch but he couldn't look away. At every strike, his body tensed, his heart clenched. Yota planted fist after fist into Grimmjow's jaw, until he finally collapsed, falling against the bed. Yota grabbed the back of his coat and threw him onto the floor where his boot connected with the side of Grimmjow's rib cage.

He hollered and gagged on blood that rushed up his mouth. This seemed to bring some satisfaction to Yota as he watched him roll to his other side so he could better breathe. He lay stunned at Yota's feet.

Ichigo hoped it was over.

"Get him up. We'll continue this in confinement."

Confinement was where they kept prisoners who acted out. Like a man who'd lost his cool last week and stolen food from several others. He was taken away and had returned gaunt and shaking. So when they hauled Grimmjow back up, half limp, he couldn't contain himself.

"No wait."

Yota turned to him.

"Yoshida? You have something to say?"

"I…" he tried to think of something but Yota cut him off.

"Think about it on your way over. You can explain it all to me in my office. Come."

And with that, both Ichigo and Grimmjow were forced out of the bunk house and into the moonlit yard. They took Grimmjow one way. Yota followed but Ichigo was hauled in a different direction.

"Hands against the wall. Feet spread."

They patted him down but he had to remain like that until Yota returned. Even then, the captain instructed him to remain in the position.

"So you don't want me to hurt the hollow?"

"No," he answered bluntly. He had nothing better to say anyway.

"Are you his lover?"

"No."

"Then why do you care?"

"He is my friend. I don't have anyone else in this place."

"I see." Yota came up behind him now and ran his hands down Ichigo's arms, until they reached his neck. He cupped his chin and took another step, standing flush against his back. "So you would like me to let him go?"

Ichigo swallowed hard. He couldn't believe how fast his heart was pounding, his breath and voice shaking.

"Yes." It was just a whisper. After everything he'd been through, how could he be so frightened now, of this one, human man?

"Good. Then don't move." His hands snaked down his body. They quickly found the hem of his shirt and slipped under to bare skin.

Ichigo's breath hitched. His fingers clenched on the wood surface of the wall. He heard Yota chuckle as his fingers worked over his chest. Ichigo bit his lip to keep from cursing him.

"That's it, good boy."

Ichigo's whole being burned. He was a warrior. He was the world's best chance at winning an impossible war. He'd died twice in the last two years and he he'd quadrupled his power in even less time.

He was Ichigo Kurosaki, eighteen year old saviour of the universe and he was being molested by a disgusting traitor to the human race.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

"Hmm, maybe you weren't lying. Doesn't' seem like you're used to being touched. Are you really just that creature's friend?"

Yota's hands returned to his waist, holding him still. He could tell Yota was deciding how far to take things. After a moment, his hands slid down, remaining on the outside of Ichigo's clothing but still causing him to shake in shame and anger. Soon after, he pulled away.

"Well, judging by your reaction, I actually believe you. You really are just his friend. Lower your hands."

Ichigo did.

"Straighten yourself out."

Again, Ichigo complied, smoothing down his shirt with shaking hands.

"Now face me."

Ichigo did. He saw the smile on Yota's face. He was sure it was at seeing his own, flushed with anger and embarrassment.

"That really shook you, didn't it? How old are you?"

"Eighteen." Ichigo couldn't believe how unsteady his voice was.

"Do you regret it now?"

"What?"

"Standing up, against the Vandenreich."

Ichigo swallowed. How was he supposed to answer this question?

"What about standing up for that creature, then?"

Ichigo continued to remain silent. Yota's smile deepened and he brushed a hand over Ichigo's cheek.

"It doesn't matter. I think you understand the situation. I'll send you back your friend in the morning. The guards will take you back."

Yota withdrew and nodded to the guards. Ichigo followed without being prompted.

* * *

Ichigo held out the cup of water to Grimmjow. He drank it slowly. Even this motion seemed to pain him.

"Just stay here today. You're in no condition to work."

"If you don't work, you don't eat."

"You can have half of mine."

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't, just stay here." Ichigo took the cup back. The remaining water was pink with blood. He looked back to Grimmjow's battered face. It was pretty cut up not to mention the bruises and swelling.

"What did they do to you in there?"

Grimmjow held his stomach but he shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I want to know what Yota got out of you."

"What do you mean?"

"He took you back there for a reason. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing."

"Then why ain't you beat to shit?"

"Grimmjow I didn't say anything to him about our plans. You said you trust me, so trust me."

Grimmjow eyed him through swollen lids. He seemed to register the pallor of Ichigo's skin for the first time.

"What did he do?"

"Like you said, it doesn't matter." He stood up. Everyone was heading out for the day. "Don't move from there. I'll see you tonight."

Ichigo worked out his anger on the walls of the quarry. Yota watched from above for a while, his eyes burned into Ichigo's back worse than the sun. That night, Ichigo gave half his meal to Grimmjow but he could have given him all of it because it was almost impossible for him to stomach the food.

"You should have kept your mouth shut," Grimmjow said in the silence. Everyone else had gone to bed but even after lights out Ichigo had continued to sit on the side of Grimmjow's bed.

"I know."

"You're lucky he didn't have you beaten too."

Ichigo's hands clenched over the sheets. _Lucky_ was not how he would refer to what happened to him.

"Kurosaki." Ichigo waited. Grimmjow was behind him, propped on his pillows. Ichigo didn't face him but he heard him let out a sigh. "Thanks for the food."

Ichigo nodded. "You're welcome. I don't think you should work again tomorrow."

"No way I—"

"Trust me." Ichigo stood. "I think I've lost my appetite for a while. You need to get better."

He climbed up the ladder to his bed. He couldn't sleep.

* * *

Grimmjow wasn't in his bunk in the morning. Ichigo swore and looked around frantically for him. He tried the bathroom—basically an outhouse attached to one end of the long rows of beds. He was there. Ichigo saw the clear tint of red in the stream he shot against the wall.

"Do you mind?" Grimmjow zipped up.

"Shit Grimmjow you're in bad shape."

"I'm fuckin' fine."

"You aren't planning on working today?"

Ichigo took the opportunity to relieve himself. Grimmjow leaned back against the door.

"You know the rules. You don't work, you don't eat." They had found this out a while ago when some others had gotten sick. The thing about the rule was, it meant you'd end up getting sicker or weaker and eventually you'd die or they'd take you away—and you didn't come back. From those who'd arrived with them, there were already three empty bunks.

"I can handle half rations for another day," Ichigo assured and washed up. "Come on."

Others were starting to wake in their bunks. Grimmjow was slow moving returning to his own and Ichigo did manage to convince him to stay for another day.

Again, he felt those eyes on him while he worked. He was glad it had grown cold enough most kept their shirts on while working. He always did.

At the end of the week they had to line up again. Ichigo was used to it by now but he cringed this time when he saw the Captain sticking so close to his men as they did their inspection. He was sure this could only mean trouble.

When they forced Grimmjow's clothes off his back—as they did on routine now—Ichigo saw the extent of his injuries from the incident. Grimmjow winced as he was roughly patted over but they made no show out of him today. Yota even passed Ichigo by with nothing more than the normal pat down.

They showered and did laundry that night—neither were very regular or pleasant experiences. The showers were just an open room near the washroom, so it always smelled bad and there was no privacy whatsoever. The floor was always crusty too and when the water came on, the crust became a slick slime beneath their bare feet.

Laundry was just as bad since they only had one outfit. They did at least have basins in which to rinse their clothing and a minimal supply of soap which they used for everything—washing their hands, themselves and their clothes. Ichigo washed his pants and underwear separately so he didn't have to spend the time naked but many men were past the point of caring about that now.

It was while he and Grimmjow were hanging their clothes to dry over night that commotion broke out just a few bunks down from them. It was lights out and most had settled in for the night.

Ichigo squinted in the dark to see what was going on. He heard what sounded like whimpering and gasping but it was muffled. Then there was strangled cry and a grunt.

"Oh shit." He left his laundry where it was but Grimmjow caught his wrist.

"Don't."

"You know what's happening, right?"

"It's none of your business."

"It's not consensual, listen." He tried to wrench out of Grimmjow's grip at the next cry but the espada jerked him back.

"It's gonna end up being a fight. Next thing the guards will be in here."

Ichigo could see now, between the bunks, the bed where it was happening. A heavy set form was rocking violently, the entire bunk swaying with the force. The form beneath him was face down and writhing.

"LET GO!"

"No!" Grimmjow shoved Ichigo to the floor. He scrambled to get up again but Grimmjow dropped on him, his forearm against his throat, the other hand pinning Ichigo's wrist and using his body weight to pin him down. Ichigo kneed Grimmjow in the back. He grunted in pain but didn't let up.

"You gonna fuckin' fight me Kurosaki?"

"Grimmjow he's being raped."

"And look at all the people rushing to help him. No one gives a fuck, kid. No one wants to get involved because they might end up getting hurt, not be able to work, starve and die—just 'cause they tried to do something noble."

"Get off of me!" He lurched again. Grimmjow swore in pain, his ribs still a mess. Ichigo stopped.

"That asshole is twice the size of us both." Grimmjow pressed. "And if you did win, then what? You going to kill him? What do you think Yota will do to you then? Or say you beat him and let him live. Then you've got yourself an enemy who will likely fuck you in two the first chance he gets."

"Grimmjow please." Ichigo tried to pry him off but couldn't without injuring Grimmjow further. The sounds continued. Sobbing began. Ichigo shut his eyes. "Please…"

"I can't."

They lay on the floor until it was over. Only when the big man let out a large grunt and the other gave a last scream that turned to desperate gasping did Grimmjow let up his hold. He sat back, bruised from Ichigo's strikes. Ichigo lay where he'd been left, hearing the floor boards creak as the big man returned to his bed and the continued sobs of the other.

Then he felt it. For the first time since arriving, they won out over his resolve and trickled down his face.

He let the tears take over. He let the horror of the moment, and all the fear and pain of the last weeks consume him. He shook in his underwear, his stolen clothes dripping around him, his only ally the one who'd put him on the floor.

"If you want to win this war, there are going to be a few casualties," Grimmjow finally spoke. Ichigo calmed, though the trickle continued, his body stilled.

"We could have stopped it."

"No we couldn't, not without too high a cost. You need to understand that if we're going to win."

"This isn't winning, Grimmjow. This is dying, slowly and pathetically and without honour." He sat up and met Grimmjow's eyes. The other dropped his chin, as if on some level, he knew Ichigo was right. But he remained adamant.

"You have to let go of who you were. Ichigo Kurosaki is dead. Burry him and survive. Surviving is how we win, not nobility, not pride, but basic, animal instincts."

They stared at one another for a moment, then Grimmjow stood and stuck out his hand.

Ichigo didn't take it. He stood on his own. "I understand your reasoning. But I'm not ready to sell my soul."

He mounted the ladder. He could still hear the man crying when he went to sleep.

* * *

 _ **Yep, it's dark and depressing, but I hope you keep reading!**_


	5. Chapter 5

Pickaxes hit rock in perfect timing with one another. The synchronized motion was so rhythmic and entrancing it allowed Ichigo's mind to slip away from the aches and pains of his body, and the chilling silence that had existed between him and Grimmjow for the past three days.

But at the next hit only one axe fell. Ichigo looked to Grimmjow to see why he'd stopped.

"Captain," Ichigo breathed, lowering his axe as well. They were stepped into the side of the quarry, in relative privacy from those working beyond. Neither he nor Grimmjow had noticed the Captain and his men move down.

"Yoshida. Hollow," Yota greeted with a cold smile.

Grimmjow's pickaxe was wrenched from him and Ichigo's was taken next.

"You've both been working so hard, I thought you deserved a break."

He took the pick axe from his men and hefted it. "What do you think, Yoshida?"

"We're fine, sir." Ichigo tried, afraid of the way the Captain was gripping the axe.

"No really, I think you deserve it, _him_ especially. So where do you want it, hollow? Hmm, where do you have an extra bone we could _break_?"

His eyes landed on Grimmjow's hollow mask. Grimmjow never let a hint of fear show on his features as he was shoved to his knees and his head held by the hair.

"You've now officially out-lasted any of the hollows who came to this place before you. If I killed you outright, the Vandenriech would get suspicious. But that's okay, I can get creative." He drew the pickaxe up.

"Stop!" Ichigo cried out. "Please stop."

The Captain held his stance. His eyes returned to Ichigo and the teen got the sickening feeling all of this had less to do with Grimmjow and more to do with himself.

"Yoshida, you should know better than to speak out of turn. You're so much better mannered than this creature."

Ichigo didn't know what to say. He looked to Grimmjow, then the Captain.

"Should I take you back to my office then? Do we need to have another…chat?"

"No I—"

"Oh good." Yota drew the axe all the way over his head.

"Stop!" Ichigo's cry echoed off the walls at the same time the axe fell. He dropped to his knees when Grimmjow's head snapped back from the blunt force and he fell inert on the cavern floor.

"N-no…Grimmjow…"

"Grimmjow? Is that his name. I never bothered to ask." They all stared at the body on the floor. Ichigo felt himself shaking. One wrong word—that was it—and now the sixth was dead. Yota served him a kick. Ichigo jolted when he heard a wet cough and a moan. He watched incredulously as Grimmjow stirred. "Would you look at that, he's still alive."

Ichigo remained where he was, stunned on the ground, while Grimmjow came back to consciousness. His face was turned away, Ichigo couldn't see the damage. The best he could hope for was that the axe came down directly on the bone mask, but even still the blow to his skull could have—and probably should have—killed him.

"Damn, broke you jaw, huh? Probably rattled a few screws loose too." Yota re-gripped the axe and swung it up. "Oh well, let's try this again, shall we?"

"Wait!" Ichigo found his feet again. He moved over to them at once, seeing for himself the pool of blood coming from Grimmjow's mouth. He was struggling to stay conscious and looked to be in terrible pain.

Yota smiled.

"So you _do_ want to come see me in my office after all?"

Ichigo stared at him. He knew what he had to say. "Yes."

"Well it's your lucky day, because this whole damn place is my office. Face the wall."

Ichigo did.

"Hands up."

He pressed them into the rough limestone he and Grimmjow had tirelessly cut through over the past week.

"Good boy."

The whisper burned into his ear like acid. Hands found his flesh quickly this time, moving right to his chest. He could see them moving under his clothes, like snakes beneath the bed sheets. He bit his bottom lip to stop the sounds of protest that wanted to escape from what his fingers were doing. But he would have taken this a hundred time over than have his fly forced open.

"Don't you move those hands of yours or I'll bash that motherfucker's head in."

Ichigo glanced in Grimmjow's direction. He couldn't quite see him from this angle, just his arm, which looked limp, and the blood that had spread out from his mouth.

He kept his eyes adamantly that way when Yota's hand went under all clothing.

He couldn't help what sounds he made next. He remembered the man in the bunk. He'd made sounds like that. Yota laughed in his ear as he humiliated him.

"This is nothing," he whispered before he withdrew and ordered Ichigo to do his pants up again. His hands were shaking as he did so. Then Yota told him to turn around.

"You got off easy kid, you should be happy."

Ichigo didn't trust himself to speak so he didn't.

"Come here." Yota motioned him forward even though they were only a foot apart. "Continue to be good and he can live."

He stepped in. Ichigo shut his eyes but he had no choice but to let the other man invade his mouth. He thought back to the last time he'd seen Orihime. He remembered her sweet taste, the salt of her tears, the softness of her skin. It had been their first and last kiss.

Now all he could taste and feel was this.

Yota let him go. He nodded and his men took Ichigo by the arm, then Grimmjow by both, hauling him up.

"They can have the afternoon off. Take them back to the bunk house."

* * *

Ichigo sat on the side of the bed, his hand on Grimmjow's arm as his body seized with pain. His jaw was undoubtedly broken. Not only from the way it moved but from the blood that had poured from his ear Ichigo could tell it had snapped and been driven up into his ear canal. The only good thing was that the bone was back in place and would heal on its own without being wired. But that was no consolation now. Grimmjow was in agony. His head had hit the ground and his neck had been snapped back so brutally Ichigo couldn't believe his spine hadn't broken. The concussion had him seeing nothing but white light. He reached for Ichigo, unable to orient himself any other way. The teen reassured him he was there.

"I'm gonna die," Grimmjow breathed. He could only speak with his teeth remaining clenched together."

"No you aren't. He's gone. You'll get past this."

"I won't," he protested. "That fuck's killed me. I can't work. I can't eat. I can't even fuckin' see. I'm gonna die in this shit hole…"

"Don't. Don't say it, Grimmjow. If you say it you'll believe it and if you believe it you'll give up."

"I do fuckin' believe it!" He cried out as much as he was capable then gripped his head with his other hand, his eyes scrunching shut. Ichigo took hold of his shoulder and squeezed it, just to let him know he was there, he was with him.

"You can't. You can't leave me here," he whispered more to himself than to the espada. Grimmjow lurched again in pain and then he dragged himself onto his side. He vomited blood onto the floor. From the colour, Ichigo could tell it didn't come from internal injuries but was the blood that had drained down his throat. It was good he was getting it up but from the noise he made it sounded like it hurt like hell.

Ichigo helped him roll back when it was done. He lay on his back again, his body shaking beyond his control.

"I'm going to get you some water," Ichigo said but his wrist was caught. Grimmjow said nothing, but Ichigo understood. He sat back down. He would stay with Grimmjow until he lost consciousness.

* * *

It was the dead of night when Grimmjow regained consciousness. Ichigo had drifted off, unable to keep awake for the entire night, but rather than returning to his own bed, he lay next to Grimmjow. The bunks were hardly spacious, but Grimmjow was completely still, so Ichigo had enough room next to him. He was glad he'd stayed when Grimmjow's first action was to reach for him.

"Hey, it's okay, we're in the bunk house."

"Kurosaki…" Grimmjow moved his head just enough to face him. "I can see you."

"Good. How do you feel?"

"Awful."

"Are you still planning on dying?"

"No."

"Good."

"I'll take that water now, though."

Ichigo obliged, filling a canteen from the bunk house supply. Grimmjow first swished the remaining blood from his mouth then swallowed back what he could. He grunted in pain from just this but remained sitting when it was done. He rubbed at his neck then tentatively reached up to his face.

His fingers pulled back at once. Even in the dark Ichigo could see the black bruising around his hollow mask—which had not, in fact broken under impact.

His hands settled back in his lap and he turned to Ichigo.

"Is that what he did to you the other time, in his office?"

Ichigo turned away. "Pretty much."

"I didn't know."

"I didn't want you to know."

"But he hasn't—"

"No."

"Good."

"Yeah but…that's where all this is going, right? It's…unavoidable."

Grimmjow had no answer. It was him who said don't get involved. The silence held. Ichigo bowed his head.

"You saved my fuckin' life," Grimmjow finally spoke.

"Yeah, I did. I guess you were right."

"Right about what?"

"I am going to have to sell my soul, to win this war." He lay back, knowing Grimmjow shouldn't be unsupervised just yet. "And to the devil, no less."

"Don't sell it on my account."

"I don't want to talk about this. Just please, don't die. Don't make me stay in this place alone, Grimmjow."

A nod, followed by a wince. Grimmjow shut his eyes. They went back to sleep.

* * *

The next night, they heard it again. Ichigo dropped from his bunk at once, intent on doing something this time, but he caught Grimmjow awake in the dark. He was struggling to sit—a full day later and he still couldn't get upright on his own., the concussion was that severe. He started to slip back and Ichigo caught his shoulder, helping him to sit. Their eyes met in the dark. Grimmjow said nothing. Neither did he try to hold onto Ichigo to keep him from going.

Ichigo listened. He sat down next to Grimmjow and looked through the bunks to the scene. It was the same man. He was dark, his eyes bright white in the night and full of lust. He was a massive frame and Ichigo recognized him as one of the men who pushed the wheelbarrows. He could easily kill Ichigo if given the chance.

He turned back to Grimmjow. Right now, the espada needed him to survive. No one else in this place was going to take care of him, split their rations with him.

Ichigo bowed his head. He heard Grimmjow let out a soft sigh—it wasn't exactly one of relief.

They lay down again, back to back, so that no one could near them without the other knowing.

They went back to sleep.

* * *

Grimmjow was able to move around at a snail's pace the next day, so long as he held on to something. It took three days for him to be able to piss without help. He was struggling, as was Ichigo. Ichigo hated being alone in the quarry all day, especially with that man coming to collect what he mined. His white eyes seemed to bore into Ichigo. And the victim, a small, timid man…well he didn't move very quickly, but he had no choice but to continue chopping into stone like the rest of them.

By the end of the week, they were in lineup again. Ichigo watched the small man shake as he was searched. He looked to be in pain. Was it happening outside of the bunk house too? The guards passed over Grimmjow without harming him this time, and even Ichigo got by with a normal pat down. The Captain seemed preoccupied and Ichigo hoped he remained that way for some time. After that, they went in, washed up and went to bed.

In the morning, Ichigo woke early. He wasn't sure why, but he seemed to come awake with a start, as if he'd heard something, but nothing seemed out of place.

He quietly descended the bunk and moved over the floor boards in his bare feet, hoping to get to the washroom by himself for once. He hated having to go with an audience.

He stopped dead in the doorway.

Bulging white eyes met him. He gripped the frame, rocked by the scene, then promptly vomited his half rations from the night before all over the floor.

Before him hung the rapist. His tongue lolled blue and swollen from his mouth. His belt was looped to a support beam above his head and around his neck. His hand was still in his pants.

Ichigo staggered away. He'd heard of such things in the news, celebrities killing themselves in the act of some sex thing. Apparently that was what this man did.

Ichigo reported it to the guard at their door. He didn't know what else to do but it seemed the only thing he could do. They were all forced from the bunk house all morning while the body was cut down and examined. It seemed they were trying to decide if there was anything suspicious going on. In the end. They were all forced to remove their belts from their clothing so this couldn't happen again and sent back inside to get dressed for the work day.

Grimmjow remained behind again, still unable to face a hard days labour. That evening Ichigo sat on the side of his bed with him while they ate. Finally they addressed what had happened.

"Is it terrible to say I'm relieved?" Ichigo asked.

"You're asking the wrong person that question," Grimmjow grunted.

"Yeah I suppose. Still, I know it's wrong to find any pleasure n the death of someone but…"

"Hey, he died good, getting himself off an' all."

Ichigo stopped eating and turned to Grimmjow. "I didn't say anything about that to you." He had kept the details to himself. He'd simply said the man had hanged himself. The guards, then, had been the only ones to see him. Grimmjow just kept eating.

"Lucky guess." Ichigo stared at him. Grimmjow set down his bowl. "Coincidentally, I'm feeling better. I can probably work tomorrow." He stretched and turned away. "Shower?"

Ichigo stood too. "Grimmjow…"

He'd used his injury to cover. Maybe, if he'd been in better shape, the Captain would have found a way to pin it on Grimmjow, but with him practically immobile, he'd had the perfect cover.

Ichigo could only think of one questions. "Why?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Cause I don't like being dirty."

"Not the shower, I mean—"

"I know what you fuckin' meant. And you heard what I said." Grimmjow turned back to Ichigo now, his face still a black and blue mess. "My soul's black as tar but it ain't got shit on it, understand? And you ain't selling yours, you hear? Now let's go shower."

* * *

 ** _Little bit of Grimmjow badassery to offset the rest of their woes...very dark content I know, still hope you continue reading!_**

 ** _Thanks,_**

 ** _Riza_**


	6. Chapter 6

Despite trying to be discrete, everyone knew who had killed the white eyed man. Judging by the look that passed between the small man and Grimmjow, Ichigo was quite certain the victim had figured it out. Maybe he had seen Grimmjow follow the big man to the bathroom, or maybe he had even lured him there. Ichigo would never know, because he would never ask Grimmjow the details of that night.

It could have been the end of them, but instead, it was the beginning—their plan was set in action. Instead of the others reeling from the act of murder, Grimmjow was praised for it—though silently—in looks and nods, and the way people no longer seemed to passively shun them. Everyone had been against what the man was doing, but no one had been brave enough to act. This meant they now respected Grimmjow, but at the same time, if they didn't have the balls to stand up to one other prisoner, then would they be able to stage a coup? Ichigo guessed they would find out, when the time came.

Grimmjow recovered from his injuries quicker than Ichigo could have hoped. Perhaps some of it was show, so that people's new found respect for him wouldn't falter. Grimmjow certainly still struggled to chew his food even after mashing it around in his bowl and headaches stuck him often while they worked. But for the first time, they had hope they could actually pull off their crazy plan.

"Twenty-three," Grimmjow announced one night while he and Ichigo were in the bathroom. It stunk and no one ever spent more time than necessary in here so they were safe to work on their plans. "Five in the guard house with the captain at all times, leaving nine on night patrol and nine sleeping."

In the day time, almost all 23 guards were active, so their best shot was to attack at dark.

"It's going to have to be at the switch to the tower."

There was one, higher point in the wall that wasn't exactly a tower but they referred to it as such. The guards spent two hours at a time watching inside and outside of the wall for trouble.

"That's who they won't miss right away—whoever comes off duty. That gives us our first gun. Then we take out his replacement. Once we have the tower, we can do this. That person will have to be our number one gun. He'll get anyone on the high ground who's going to take us out in the yard."

Neither Ichigo nor Grimmjow were trained using guns so they would most likely have to entrust this key part of the plan to one of the other men who knew what they were doing.

"The humans will be our best shot, but the soul reapers will probably have the most guts to act."

There were four soul reapers in the camp, but they were housed in another bunk house and worked in a different part of the quarry. It would be difficult to get them a message and in fact, involving the other bunk houses would be more complicated. It would be best to settle things with only members of their own bunk house.

"From then on, you and I split up."

"You said we should stay together," Ichigo argued.

"If I trusted these assholes to have the balls to carry through, sure. But I need you to take the yard while I go for the guardhouse."

"You're going for the Captain yourself."

"Damn straight. If only I had Pantera, I'd rip him in half."

"Yeah…"

"Oh come off your high horse. We're gonna kill these bastards and you know it. Stop being so squeamish."

Where Ichigo wanted to disable the men, he knew Grimmjow would be aiming to kill. Ichigo had put the topic off but soon he'd have to make a decision which was more important to him—preserving life no matter how vile, or his freedom. But for the moment, he continued with the plan.

"So who do you think we can trust to help us?" he asked.

"Donovan." Donovan was a strong shouldered, tall African-American who barely spoke Japanese but swung his pix-axe like he was mining for gold and had a keen eye for detail. He'd spoken with them a few times—enough for them to know he'd come from America to join the war for humanity's salvation and he was a six-year marine in America. He would be their sharp-shooter.

"He'll have to take the tower, if we can fuckin' explain it to him."

"I took four years of English in school, I'll explain it to him."

"Good. And I think he'll be more than willing to help. Then there's Kitanu. He was a martial arts something-or-other right?"

"He ran a dojo." Ichigo had picked up every detail he could about their bunkmates just by listening and watching. "He'll be perfect for stealth."

"So he can help Donovan take the tower after we take out the guard coming off duty."

"Then what?"

"Then Donovan shoots down others on the wall while we spread out on the ground. We'll have one gun on the ground so our first priority will be to get more. We go for the guard house."

Ichigo sucked in his breath. Grimmjow gave him a hard look.

"I know, Grimmjow, but, killing them in their sleep…"

"I'll kill _you_ in your sleep if you fuck this up, Kurosaki."

Again, he let it go. He'd hear out the plan and then try to come up with something better and try to convince Grimmjow to follow along.

"Okay, then what?"

"Then we're fully loaded. We'll have eleven armed men against their remaining ten. It's over."

"I doubt the guards sleep with their guns."

"What? Of course they do. What would happen if there was an alarm and they were all unarmed?"

"I guess."

"I've been watching, kid. They take those things with them everywhere, even to the shitter."

"Okay, point made. So that's it. We'll need Donovan, Kitanu and the two of us and then seven others."

"Should be enough. Those fucks control over two hundred men, so it will only take the eleven of us to take them down. Now let's get out of this place."

They left the stench of the washroom for their beds but noticed everyone standing stiffly near their bunks.

"Shit," Grimmjow breathed behind Ichigo.

Two of the guards were making their way through the bunkhouse. Ichigo guessed it was a surprise inspection but when their eyes locked on him and Grimmjow, he knew it wasn't.

The nearest one unshouldered his riffle and brought the butt end up. Ichigo started to bring his hand up to stop it, but Grimmjow whacked it away at the last second and absorbed the blow, staggering into the wall by the washroom entrance. It had struck him above the eyebrow, fortunately not hitting his broken jaw. He was still affected by the concussion, however, so he went down. The guard stood over him, the business end of his rifle now on him, but he turned to Ichigo.

"The Captain wants you in his office, now."

Ichigo swallowed. Everyone was watching them. All those eyes and faces. All those knowing, sympathetic gazes. He glanced back at Grimmjow. He was holding his head where it bled, but he met Ichigo's gaze.

He gave him nothing—no sign, no nod or shake of the head—because he knew as much as Ichigo there was no choice.

Ichigo set his jaw. He felt his temperature rising, not from shame, but utter rage, that these two men, and the handful of others in the rest of the compound, had reduced him, and Grimmjow, and all the other prisoners, to this: to bending to their cruelty, their threats. Bending to the will of one sick man.

He took a step forward. His arm was taken. He was escorted past the ranks of dirty faces, several diverting their eyes from him as he passed.

He felt like he walking to his execution.

The night air was cold. It struck him hard, and he realized he'd broken out into a sweat. His palms were sweaty. He wiped them off on his pants and took a steadying breath. He would not show fear to this man.

The two guards brought him inside. One had slicked back hair in a short ponytail and a protruding jaw. The other was tall and had a flat nose. Ichigo read their two names, stitched in their uniforms: Gonda and Shibasaki. Were they going to participate in his humiliation?

"Hands." The command was barked out by Shibasaki. He complied, body rigid and to his surprise, it was the guard who carried out the search, legitimately looking for weapons. Ichigo glanced at Yota. He was working at his desk, and didn't seem overly interested at the moment.

"Put him in the chair," he said when he saw the search was finished. "I'll get to him when I'm done."

"Yes sir."

Ichigo was shoved back into a hard metal chair. His hands were zip-tied behind him, through one of the chair rungs. His ankles were also secured. He watched Yota carefully as he was restrained.

"Thank you," Yota said dismissively to the guards, but when they reached the door he looked up at them. "Remain outside the door."

"Yes sir."

The door shut. They were alone. Yota ignored him.

"What is this?" Ichigo asked.

Yota shrugged. "I've been working hard, I thought I deserved a reward. Now shut up and let me finish my work, then I'll get to you."

Ichigo's face flushed in anger. This man meant to use him as stress relief? And going to such lengths restraining him…was he going to take it all the way tonight? If he tried that, Ichigo knew he could never restrain himself. Then Grimmjow would end up dead and their entire plan would be over before it even started.

He couldn't do this without the espada.

But he couldn't do _this_ either.

He sat for a long time. Yoshida worked in silence, his pen scratching over paper. It gave Ichigo a chance to take in his surroundings. He tried to memorize every detail, pretend he was Grimmjow and pick out what was important, file all that information away. But really, he was only distracting himself from his reality, and when the pen was set down with finality, and those eyes lifted to him, his thoughts scattered, and he began to feel what he told himself he wouldn't. His breaths grew fast, just as Yota rose. He did his best to swallow it back. He did his best to remember all the other enemies he'd faced and overcome in the past few years.

"I take it you didn't resist?"

Ichigo said nothing. What was the point?

"You really are a loyal friend to that creature. But I'm starting to appreciate it. How far _will_ you go to protect him?"

"Not as far as you're thinking," Ichigo blurted out. His eyes hardened but his face flushed because what he said meant he'd accept it to a point, whereas he didn't mean to accept any of it at all.

"It's okay, speak your mind. I won't punish him for words."

"You would, if you heard what I really wanted to say to you."

This brought a smile to Yota. "You're really scared, huh? You didn't dare speak to me like this the other times. How much _do_ I frighten you, boy?"

He reached a hand out along Ichigo's jaw, tracing the bone he'd broken in Grimmjow. He was watching Ichigo intently, as if enjoying the rebellion in him.

"I don't fucking fear you." Ichigo pulled his head back. "You disgust me. You're a bully who jumped at the opportunity to lick the Vandenreich's boots so you could make a grab at power and do _this_ to people! What were you before? Some low life, pathetic piece of shit who got off fantasizing about stuff like this?!"

The punch made the chair rock and Ichigo's eye go black for several seconds. He thought the chair would topple but his hair was caught and he was held tightly in place.

"I guess that answers the question," Ichigo breathed, his anger winning out over all other cognitive thought. "I used to face a lot of bullies when I was a kid. I guess this is just the adult version."

"You've got quite the mouth on you, kid. You've been really bottling up all this time, haven't you?" His voice was calm and dangerous now. "It's a lot more satisfying, you know, knowing how much you want to fight me, but can't." He looked him over, considering. "I was going to just fuck you outright tonight, but let's make this last. Let's see what else you can use that mouth for."

He straightened, hand ever clenched in Ichigo's hair, forcing him to stare straight ahead at his bulging zipper.

Ichigo's stomach clenched. He yanked back hard but couldn't free himself from the grasp. His movements were enough to make the chair rock back and forth. Yota wrestled with him for a moment but quickly realized two hands were not enough.

"Gonda!"

The door flew open. The pony-tailed guard moved over at once to restrain Ichigo further. He took over the iron grip in his wild orange hair and clamped a hand beneath his jaw, half choking him, but squeezing tight at the joint, trying to force his teeth open.

"You try to bite, and I'll behead the espada."

Ichigo's eyes blazed with a fury he'd never felt in all his life—save for the times he'd turned into a hollow. But that was not an option now. Now, he was solely human, and had to feel everything as a human, weak and defenceless.

Yota undid his belt. Ichigo reactively shut his eyes.

A frantic rapping sounded at the door.

"Sir!" Came the desperate plea though thick wood.

"I'm fucking busy!" Yota shouted back.

"SIR! _Inspection_ sir! It's an inspection!"

All movement ceased. Yota froze up a moment before a loud curse dropped from him.

"SHIT!" He redid his buckle at once. "Get him back, right now!" he screamed at Gonda.

"Yes sir."

The door opened and shut. Yota was gone and Shibasaki came in. The hands around Ichigo's head and neck disappeared. The zip-ties were cut; they pulled him to his feet. He was still enraged, but the moment he was vertical he felt lightheaded. His muscles shook and he couldn't even try to fight their hold. They steered him out of the office, back into the frigid night where the yard was filled with frantic movement. He saw a jeep and men with other uniforms getting out, large flashlights in hand, scanning the yard and the guards nearest them. Yota was rigidly saluting their leader.

"Hurry the fuck up!" The pair shoved him back inside the bunkhouse. The door shuddered shut behind him. He stood in the dark, holding the wall, trying to catch his breath.

The room was settled, quiet. He'd been gone for an hour or so, and in that time everyone had gone to bed. Moonlight streamed in the windows. Occasionally shadows cut through the light. The men outside were busy doing whatever they were supposed to for inspection. It seemed only they were under scrutiny and not the prisoners.

Ichigo sank against the wall. He couldn't get his body under control. What was happening to him? He was fine, nothing had happened, but his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

"Kurosaki."

He jumped at the voice. Grimmjow's eyes pierced the veil of darkness between them. He reached out slowly, almost carefully, and took his shoulder.

"Come on."

He pulled him away from the wall. Ichigo followed him, step by step, navigating the rows of bunks, back to their own. He sank onto Grimmjow's bunk and dropped his head into his hands at once, regulating his breathing.

"Did he do it?" Grimmjow asked from above him. The words made Ichigo stiffen, as if they'd struck him somehow. He could feel those blue eyes on him, trying read his body language, his messed up hair and dishevelled clothes.

"No." He found it hard to get the word out. He pressed his hands tighter to his face, hurting his black eye, but the pressure helping him to hold it all back.

"Then what happened? You were gone for—"

"Just shut up," he snapped between his fingers. Grimmjow shifted where he stood. He was still staring at him, trying to work it out for himself. Ichigo dropped his hands, suddenly angry at the sixth. "Just stop fucking looking at me like that!"

"He did something." Grimmjow pressed, and with Ichigo's face now revealed to him, and the moonlight from their window shining in, his eyes alighted on his jaw. Ichigo raised a hand up at once, and felt for the first time the bruising there. He watched Grimmjow's thought process and felt himself flush.

"Fuck you!" Ichigo stood and shoved him away. He spun and planted his boot in the side of their bunk. He kicked again, futility, against sturdy wood. Pain shot through his toes. He didn't care. He kept striking, shaking the bedframe, until he was bent against the bunk, his fingers digging into the sheets of his bed, his forehead against the frame as his breaths came in gasps.

"Fuck all of this!" He growled, ripping the sheets form his bed. There wasn't enough—for him to grab, and hurl and break. There was nothing for him to use to release the rage so deep inside him he felt hollow. He cracked the ladder to his bed when he struck it with his forearm, doing himself the most damage. But he could barely feel it, or anything, until arms wrapped around his torso, restraining him from behind.

"Kurosaki," Grimmjow hissed over his shoulder. "Stop."

Ichigo jerked a couple of times, but his shortened breath was winning out. He panted in the hold, dropping his head, staring at the arms restraining him.

"He didn't fucking do it," he whispered finally. "The inspection…" he found himself unable to say more. He shut his eyes, his laboured breaths threatening to turn into something else.

"Good," Grimmjow said shortly. Slowly, he released Ichigo, but kept hold of his shoulders and spun him around to face him. He brought a hand up to his chin, tilting his head to see the damage. "How bad are you hurt?"

"I'm not." Ichigo pulled his chin away, dropping his eyes again.

"You ain't hurt anywhere else?"

"I said I'm fine, Grimmjow."

He felt tired now, cold and heavy. When Grimmjow guided him to sit again, he complied. He didn't know what to do with himself, so he let Grimmjow decide for him.

"Drink some water," Grimmjow passed him the well-used cup. Had he been waiting with it, to deal with the aftermath?

"Lay down and go to sleep. I'm going to stay up tonight, watch the yard and find out what this whole inspection thing is all about."

Ichigo did, with his boots and coat still on, he lay on his side on Grimmjow's bunk, facing the window and the espada.

"I mean it, go the fuck to sleep, you'll have to take watch tomorrow night." He went on, trying to pretend things were normal. Trying to gloss over what had happened.

"Grimmjow."

"What?"

"I can't do it. I'm sorry."

"Of course you can't," Grimmjow responded at once, understanding the true depth of what Ichigo was saying. "That just means we have to move faster and get our plan going before he comes for you again."

He turned back then, watching the window. Ichigo continued watching him, his once mortal enemy, who'd just now lied to him, trying to tell him there was any chance in Hell they could prevent what was coming. Maybe he'd been lying about all of it, all along. Maybe he was lying to himself too, the war was already over and they had lost.

Or maybe, the last espada was the last true resistor, who couldn't even comprehend the thought of giving up.

Ichigo let out a long slow breath, finally feeling the tension in his chest easing up. No, Grimmjow was _not_ the last resistor—he, Ichigo Kurosaki, would never accept this prison, or Yota or the Vandenreich. And if resisting meant he had to slit a few throats—like those men who'd helped Yota tonight—then perhaps it wouldn't be so hard after all, to do things Grimmjow's way.

So he shut his eyes and tried to drift off with the knowledge that one way or another, their captivity would be ending soon.

* * *

 ** _F_ _ewf, been re-working this chapter for a while, trying to get everything right, was finding it hard to keep both boys in character._**

 ** _To answer some questions, in particular Junichi's: Some of your questions may have been answered by the beginning of this chapter, but if not, here is some further explanation: In the last chapter there was some implied passage of time in which Grimmjow was healing. What was never stated but what I imagined for all of this to work, was that at some point Grimmjow was better than he was letting on but he was biding his time to kill the man. And like I said in this chapter, perhaps he had help, perhaps not. (How it played out in my mind, was that Grimmjow waited for him to take a leak and jumped him. Perhaps I was pushing reason that he would have the strength to do what he did)._**

 ** _Hope that helps!_**

 ** _Thanks for reading,_**

 ** _Riza_**


	7. Chapter 7

"You should stay today." Grimmjow pulled his coat on. Ichigo was just coming awake on the bottom bunk. He'd only really fallen asleep a few hours ago.

"What? No I'm fine."

"You've covered my ass enough times."

"Cause you got the shit beat out of you." Ichigo sat. "I'm not hurt." He rose and buttoned his coat—it was cold enough now that they needed their jackets even as they worked.

"You look like hell."

"So do you," Ichigo returned, nodding to Grimmjow's cut and swollen eyebrow. "Besides, I don't want to just lay here all day anyway. I'd rather take my mind off of it."

He worked hard that day, hoping every swing of the axe would get out some of his anger, his shame. He knew Grimmjow was keeping an eye on him, and he noticed some others looking his way as well. His face burned. He hit the rock harder.

The only relief they got was that Yota seemed preoccupied with whatever had resulted from the inspection. He shouted at his men more often than usual and spent less time personally overseeing them as they worked. When Ichigo did see him, he noted Yota clutching a thick bundle of papers and when the captain's eyes drifted toward him, his hand seemed to clench tighter over the folder.

That afternoon snow fell. It wasn't much, just enough to leave a fine powder over everything. By next morning it was well below zero. Within a matter of hours their hands were going numb around their pics. Ichigo saw unease in the guards. It was possible they hadn't planned for this. What would they do if it got too cold? Would they let them stay inside? Without work, they'd have all day to plan and plot…

They had coffee that night. Rather than blankets it seemed to be the guard's only mercy against the cold. Everyone in their bunkhouse gathered around the only stove in the place where the assigned members of their group prepared and served the meals. Usually this was done under the guards' supervision so that no one got more rations than deserved and anyone who didn't work did not get served. But the coffee was given out in plenty and without supervision. The forty or so men that shared their bunkhouse stood in a mob around the stove, sipping their coffee and holding it with numb fingers. It was the perfect opportunity to make their move.

"So Donovan, you come from America right?" Grimmjow started up the conversation. Everyone listened.

"Yes. I military," he said in his broken Japanese. Grimmjow of course knew this already but it was the lead-in to his next question.

"Military huh? Anyone else here a soldier?"

"Yeah." A short but strong built man spoke up. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. Ichigo knew his name to be Ogawa. "Would have served fifteen years this month. I was in the Air Self-Defence Force, flew jets until mine got cut in half by a fuckin' flyin' man in a white suit."

This got many grumbles. The humans had been understandably baffled by the Vandenreich.

"I was in the GSDF." Someone else much older added. He looked to be in his fifties. "Made it to Major General before retirement."

"What's your name?" Another spoke. "Are you Kitsune Ihara?"

The older man smiled. "Yes I am, heard of me, son?"

"Yeah, I'm Uruma Kaito. I met you when I was a cadet."

From there a dialogue opened up. For the first time in all the weeks they'd been together, they all talked. They introduced themselves. They told of who they had been before all this. The last to speak was the small man they'd all heard being assaulted. Everyone was silent when he spoke.

"I was a school teacher before all of this." His voice was soft, his eyes on the floor. "A number of my students joined a resistance group. I cautioned them against it because I saw little hope. They were so young, much like you, Yoshida." His eyes lifted to Ichigo. "When I heard of their deaths, I guess I couldn't help myself. I ended up getting caught doing what I told them not to."

He lowered his eyes again, many others did too.

But one voice spoke. Ihara returned the conversation to the one who'd started it.

"And you? Who are you? Why is it, that a hollow is here?"

Everyone knew what a hollow was now, though most mistook them for mindless creatures as many of the humanoid ones had been killed before the war ever left the sands of Hueco Mundo.

"Because we were the first to be attacked by them, and to fight back." Grimmjow explained in vague terms what had happened in Hueco Mundo.

The guards banged on the door for lights out then, but everyone walked away from the fire feeling different. Now they weren't strangers. They weren't so alone. Ichigo heard several conversations continue on after lights out as they dispersed. He and Grimmjow returned to their bunk.

Now they knew who to ask to join them. In a matter of days, their plan could be enacted.

* * *

The next day Ichigo managed to get some time alone with Donovan. The fact they could speak English made it even easier to share their plan without being overheard. The American was immediately in for the plan though he wanted to know the details. No doubt the other soldiers would too—to make sure the plan was sound. He reported back to Grimmjow who had in turn, snagged them another, Kitsuna Ihara and he in turn was going to recruit the younger GSDF member who had recognized him. If they had those three, they had a solid base. They also wanted the dojo master and Ogawa, but they wouldn't make too many moves all at once or someone might noticed their interactions.

They planned to leave those not participating in the dark about the matter—even the other men in their bunkhouse. The more people that knew, the bigger the risk they would slip up.

That night, the temperature dropped to unbearable degrees. None of them were dressed for it and the poor quality of the bunkhouse combined with their thin sheets was not enough to keep them protected.

Ichigo's breath boiled before him in the air where they all huddled around the stove. There was no way they could sleep like this and with forty men those in the back didn't benefit from the faint glow of embers they were allowed to keep burning.

"You're gonna have to sleep down here," Grimmjow said when they finally returned to their bunk from the stove. "Bring your blanket down and we might just survive the night."

Ichigo obeyed, though he didn't think this cold was enough to kill them, it was certainly enough to slow them down. They rolled under the blankets, back to back, coats still on, and with twice the body heat beneath the covers it bearable. They were both awake for a long time though. Ichigo stared on straight into the dark, his breath still misting before him. He was glad he couldn't see the espada's face when he voiced his thoughts allowed.

"It's been three days." He didn't need to say the rest for Grimmjow to understand.

"That inspection put a scare in him."

"But for how long?"

Grimmjow exhaled. "We're almost ready. We just have to finish this before he comes for you again."

"It's not just me I'm worried about. He used the word espada. How would he know what it means?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Just because he's heard the word, doesn't mean he knows what it really means, or who I really am."

"I'm not so sure."

"Listen, if he knew, I wouldn't still be here, right?"

Ichigo considered. He supposed that made sense, but that just meant he was back to worrying about Yota's original interest in him. He shuddered involuntarily. He heard a sigh from Grimmjow.

"We have to stick to our plan. It's the only way."

That meant Grimmjow still wouldn't interfere if Yota's men came for him again. It meant that when it came down to it, Ichigo was on his own.

Suddenly the body at his back did nothing to warm him.

He felt bone, deep cold.

* * *

 ** _Much longer chapter next time, consider this the calm before the storm..._**

 ** _Geisha: Yes, this story is focused on Ichigo and will remain limited to his inner thoughts. I did this intentionally, partly because I felt this story was best told in this way, and partly because I have a tendency to let Grimmjow take the main focus for my stories, and I wanted to try giving Ichigo the main emphasis this story._**

 ** _Thanks everyone,_**

 ** _Riza._**

 ** _PS, if you are interested, I will be publishing a short story soon about some of the recent cannon events, giving my take on Grimmjow's first meeting with Yoruichi and other characters._**


	8. Chapter 8

The night of their planned assault finally arrived. The men they'd gathered had added their own strategies. A few changes had been made but overall, the plan remained the same.

As for killing the guards, Ichigo now had less reservations on the matter and it was agreed they'd need one or two alive for information and maybe even to keep up appearances if they were visited by other soldiers. It would be best if they could turn a few of the guards, but that was perhaps hoping for too much.

Once they had this camp, they had their stronghold. They'd have nearly two hundred men with guns and pick axes and they'd have a vehicle. The large truck that had brought them here was gone, but the guards had a jeep outside. A select few could take the jeep and try to situate themselves. Then they'd plan their next move.

It all hinged on the first stages of their plan going flawlessly. They had the timing down perfectly, everyone had their specified positions and jobs. They waited in tensed silence in the dark, all of them mentally counting down the minutes to when they would either die, or be free.

And then Yota came for Ichigo.

They were ordered to line up in front of the bunks. It was a feigned inspection. The men took no time passing by all the other bunks, but stopped meaningfully before Ichigo and Grimmjow.

Yota didn't bother coming up with an excuse. The men simply took Ichigo's arms and hauled him away. Yota lingered a moment, smiling at Grimmjow, but he didn't bother to hurt him physically. Ichigo glanced back at the espada, but immediately looked away again. He couldn't—he couldn't show how desperately he wanted help, because he knew that no matter what the cost, the plan could not be compromised, not even for this.

But this was no consolation as Ichigo was pulled along, now seeing the shame-filled faces of men who were no longer strangers. The young American, Donovan, had his fist clenched. Ichigo shook his head, telling him to let it go. They left the bunkhouse.

They bypassed the office. They went for Yota's personal quarters instead.

Once he was alone with Yota, he would fight. If he took Yota down and no one found out for the next sixty minutes, then the rest of the men would enact their plan and Ichigo would have already taken out the main player. Maybe all of this could work to their advantage, in the end.

He clung to this hope when he was forced into the small, stand-alone building that was the Captain's quarters. He took in the bed, the desk and computer and what looked like a radio or some type of communication device. He hadn't seen any signs of technology since being brought to the labour camp. He briefly wondered what level of power and communication the soldiers had in the parts of the camp Ichigo had never seen. Then his eyes landed on the folder—the one Yota had been clutching for days.

His own, hand drawn image stared back at him.

"It is you, isn't it?" Yota's men hovered close, as if ready to pounce on Ichigo. He didn't drop his guard, but he watched Yota cross the room to the file on his small desk. "I mean, it looks like you, but they say in this file this guy is one of the spiritual beings. That he was some type of powerful _soul_ _reaper_."

He looked between the drawing and Ichigo.

"You are Ichigo Kurosaki, right?"

Ichigo said nothing. He was waiting to see what Yota intended to do with this information—and hopefully find out what he might have already done with it.

"Satoro Yoshida. Where did you get that name? They would have registered you, searched you. Oh well, I suppose a new name wouldn't be that hard to come by. Once I hail command, they'll run a background, find out if you're really the one they're after."

So, Yota hadn't reported him yet. Ichigo nearly exhaled with relief, but then Yoat turned the next page. "But him, there's no doubt."

Ichigo saw the drawing of Grimmjow. His bone jaw, the emphasis, in bold letters about the six tattoo on his back. His blue hair. Those marks beneath his eyes. "I had gotten the report not long ago, about the hollows, these _espada…_ its nonsense to me, but when I got this, I knew. He's one of their elite soldiers. He's valuable, so the two of you will likely be hauled off as soon as I radio command."

Ichigo's mind raced. So he hadn't reported Grimmjow either. They still had time. It appeared only Yota and these two men knew the truth.

Then they would just have to die as soon as possible.

But Yota was setting the file down, he was smiling. His words became sick syllables in Ichigo's ears.

"So, I'll have to do you now, before I lose my chance."

They all came at him: Yota from the front, the other two from behind, attempting to restrain him for their leader. But Ichigo was ready—had been ready since the moment he stepped in here.

He floored the one to his left with a kick to the gut. The one on his right managed to grab hold of his wrist but he twisted sharply and pulled his hand out of his jacket sleeve, flinging the well-worn material back in his face to disorient him. This gave him the second he needed to evade Yota's swing. He took half the hit but rolled with it, barely feeling the sting in his cheek, and came back with a knee to Yota's gut.

Spit and foul breath escaped over Ichigo's shoulder. He'd stepped into him, and now brought an arm up around the captain's neck.

"SHIT SIR!"

"AH!" Ichigo lurched as the room filled with the sound of a gunshot. His left leg went numb for a second, before it was suddenly burning hot.

"You idiot!" Yota dropped Ichigo to the floor where icy hot pain pulsed through his thigh, rapid fire, not letting him have a second of relief. "We need him alive. Now stop the bleeding."

The guard still had Ichigo's jacket. He ripped a few strips from it while the one Ichigo had kicked in the gut, Gonda, managed to come to his aid in restraining Ichigo. He grabbed his wrists and kept him pinned. Ichigo was panting for breath. He decided to let them patch him up before he continued trying to kill them.

"SIR! We heard a shot, sir!"

Yota went to the door, told the other guards there nothing was going on. The one at Ichigo's leg pressed a finger against his wound and Ichigo whole body tensed, a scream escaped him.

"It went all the way through," the man explained. Yota was pacing, watching, rubbing his neck Ichigo had tried to break.

"Bind it up. Hold him tight."

Ichigo saw cold fury in him. Perhaps he didn't want to wait for them to bind his wound.

He brought his head up into the one pinning his wrists at the same time that he brought the knee of his wounded leg into the face of the man trying to stop the bleeding. It was the flat nosed one—Shibasaki. His nose would be even flatter after that, and he fell away, clutching his bleeding face.

Gonda had lurched away from the head butt, but hadn't suffered a very hard blow. Ichigo rolled onto his stomach and shoved himself up but Gonda got him hard in the face with a punch. Ichigo collapsed to one side and felt a fist in his hair. Gonda tried to use his weight to pin Ichigo down but he struck the guard's wrist and then shot flexed fingers up toward his neck. He reeled back, spitting and coughing. Ichigo got back to his knees, pain stabbing through his thigh, but he managed to get back to his feet.

"Fuck, just shoot him!" Shibasaki had also found his feet—and his gun. He held his face with one hand, and the weapon with the other, aiming for Ichigo's head.

"Don't be so incompetent," Yota reprimanded, seizing the gun from his subordinate. "There are two of you and one of him and he's shot in the leg. SUBDUE HIM!"

They lunged at him again. Ichigo swung but missed. He was getting lightheaded from the amount of blood gushing from his leg, and now he'd given them an opportunity. His back hit the wall, air rushed from his lungs. His nose busted open when a fist cut across his face. He blinked hard, feeling tight fingers in his hair, holding him up for more.

He brought his foot up, even though it forced his left leg to take his weight. His aim was true, Gonda bent in on himself with a yell, clutching where Ichigo's foot had hit sensitive body parts. Shibasaki got another hit in but with Gonda's hand gone from his hair Ichigo ducked the next strike and let the guard's fist connect with solid wood. He screamed in pain and Ichigo hurled himself into the man. He succeeded in shoving Shibasaki back and then caught him around the collar and drove his fist the side of his head, near his temple.

He dropped to the floor stunned. Ichigo stood above him, laboured breaths escaping him, and lifted his eyes to Yota.

He wasn't there.

Ichigo felt the foul breath too late. He moved too slowly, and he turned just in time to take the full force of the blow directly in the face.

He collapsed to his knees in shock, his brain still trying to process the pain that shook through his skull. The room didn't just waver, it wobbled and shook and changed colour. His hands grasped for support and struck wood. Something hot dripped down from his face onto the floor beneath him. He saw his blood fall in steady, thick drops, rolling over his cheek where he'd been struck with Yota's baton. It must have cut across his face, from his ear and over his cheekbone. He could still see, it hadn't got his eye, but it had stolen his coordination, his control over his body. The pain became worse with every heartbeat, and the spinning room made his stomach heave. Acid lurched up his throat and he vomited over the floor before collapsing to one side.

"Did you kill him?"

"Concussion. He'll live…maybe. Bind his hands."

"I don't think he's going to be much of a problem now, sir."

They were right, but they still zipped his hands together with plastic. They finished their earlier task and bound up his leg as well. He wasn't sure that would matter much. A blow to the head like this was just as likely to kill him.

He lay helpless on the floor, hands secure at his back, his blood and vomit a pool before his eyes. He could barely make sense of anything in the room, be he did hear the door open and shut and he knew he was alone with Yota.

"You shouldn't have fought. Now I'll have to take it out on the hollow before I send him off."

Ichigo's shoulders were seized. He was forced away from the mess he'd made on the floor and rolled from his side onto his stomach. His head rolled to the door. He could only see it, as he felt his shirt tear, his back bared. He could only hear the rapid breath above him. He could only feel the hands that touched him.

And the door flew open.

"What the fuck?"

Yota let Ichigo go but froze where he was, kneeling over him. He had stopped, because of what he saw. Ichigo couldn't move, so he couldn't look away, but all he saw were the eyes of the dead man who'd fallen through the door. Shibasaki's eyes were bulging in shock and terror. His neck was parted wide like a smile, hot red liquid draining out.

And kneeling on the chest of the dead soldier, was the sixth esapda.

Grimmjow must have fought his way tooth and nail to get here. His right shoulder hung too low, and blood wept from his collar, painting his arm in ribbons of crimson. He was panting for breath, and blood stained the side of his face as well. But his hand was steady where it was held before him.

It was so wrong, to see the gun in the espada's hand. It was an object that did not belong in a swordsman's grasp, but he held it firm, his eyes blazing with rage that could no longer be contained.

"You finally broke. You finally lost control," Yota said, his voice eerily calm. Both men were on their knees. Both men were trapped in a cold, mortal stare down.

Grimmjow took a steadying breath and his finger tightened over the trigger. "Yes, I did."

The shot hit Yota in the chest. Grimmjow had no training with a gun. It was the largest, easiest target and Grimmjow pumped two more rounds into his torso to make sure it was done. Yota didn't die right away. He sputtered and clasped his hands over his gut. He choked on blood and began to cry out but his voice died and shortly after the rest of him did, collapsing forward onto the floor in a ruined mess.

Grimmjow stood up slowly. He was hurt, his arm dangling at the side and Ichigo could see the deep wound—either a bullet or a knife had gone through his shoulder. But he moved over to the teen without a word. He had a knife still clasped in his wounded hand, and cut the zip ties holding Ichigo's wrists together.

Ichigo brought his hands in front of him but he couldn't get himself off the floor. The concussion was severe and his limbs weren't listening to his brain.

"Shit." Grimmjow took his shoulders and got him sitting but Ichigo was limp in his hold. His eyes swept over the wound on his face. "Can you hear me?"

"Y-yes." Even his tongue wasn't working right.

"Good. Donovan!" Grimmjow called back over his shoulder. In the meantime, he pulled Ichigo against his shoulder and tried to get him standing.

"Y-you changed…the plan…" Ichigo was shivering. Must be the blood loss.

"Don't read too much into it." His fingers bit into Ichigo's back as he pulled him to his feet. Ichigo was unable to stand and remained against Grimmjow.

"Thanks…"

"Shut up and stand up."

But as much as he wanted to help out, he couldn't. He was barely still conscious. The door opened again and Ichigo spotted Donovan over Grimmjow's shoulder. He cursed as he stepped past the body of Yota's guard, Gonda. Ichigo could just now hear the gunshots going off outside.

"It's happening! It's started!" Donovan said excitedly, sweat on his forehead and a nervous energy in his eyes.

"I know, I fucking started it," Grimmjow grumbled, "just take the kid."

Grimmjow pulled away from Ichigo and he was left in the support of their American ally. "Get the jeep," Grimmjow said. "Go."

The jeep? Ichigo thought vaguely as he was lifted and carried out into the night. His eyes stuck to Grimmjow's back as the espada led them forward. The jeep had never been a part of their plan. Just what had Grimmjow done in the few minutes since Ichigo had been taken? He'd changed everything by coming after Ichigo and now they were in the midst of a warzone.

"Gun!" Donovan yelled suddenly. Grimmjow didn't hesitate to toss the weapon back to their sharpshooter. He shot easily, even with Ichigo weighing him down, and a man fell from the wall not far away.

"Bullets!" Donovan shouted one of the words Ichigo had taught him recently. Grimmjow understood—they were out of ammo.

"You keep going. Don't fucking stop." He veered off. Ichigo struggled to keep track of him as he was carried straight forward, through the middle of camp, toward the guard house at the gate and where the jeep was kept. He heard repeating gunfire and cries of rage and pain. He saw the door to one of the other bunker houses break open, a guard shot wildly into the crowd of men and several fell, but he did too. Panic was gripping those who were not aware of the coup. Suddenly other prisoners were mixed up in it and pandemonium took over.

"AH!" Donovan lurched in almost the same instant that Ichigo heard the crack of the shot. He staggered but did not fall. Ichigo couldn't tell where he was hit, but he looked up to the wall of the encampment and saw a dark figure slide-tackle the gunman.

Grimmjow had gained the wall as the Donovan had been meant to. Ichigo watched him lift the gun from the body but he didn't try to make use of it.

"KID!"

He hurled it down at them. Donovan never missed a beat but bent and scooped it up. In seconds he had it flipped around and was shooting up into the dark, where Ichigo's hazed eyes couldn't even make out the guards trying to shoot them down where they ran.

They almost ran into the jeep when they got to it. The engine was running and a soldier almost screamed at the sight of them. Donovan pointed the gun at him. Ichigo saw it in the young American's face—he hesitated—because the guard in the jeep was scared—but he also reached for his side arm.

The windshield shattered from the large shell. It also shattered the skull of the man in the driver's seat. Donovan tossed the body out and shoved Ichigo in.

"Hang on, Yoshida."

 _Yoshida_? Who was Yoshida? Oh right, he was that boy—that bloated burnt body—that dead thing Ichigo had used to survive.

"That's not my name."

"What?" Donovan put the jeep into gear and stepped on the gas.

"Yoshida is dead…"

"Just stay down."

Ichigo sagged against the seat. He was low, but he could still see through the window. He wondered just how all of this fit into the plan until a body hit the bumper.

Oh. Now he understood.

Donovan flinched every time. He wasn't as cold as Grimmjow could be while committing murder. The guards shot at them desperately. Donovan veered and steered and chased them down, crushing them beneath metal and rubber. They stopped after one brutal strike and Donovan looked like he was going to throw up. Instead, his door was thrown open and Ogawa was there.

"You shoot, I drive."

Donovan didn't hesitate. He seemed more confident leaning out the window and taking aim. Half of the guards must have been dead by now, but Ichigo had lost count.

 _Count_. Wasn't that what Grimmjow had told him to do? Count. Counting was important. How many guards left? How many allies armed, alive? How many prisoners dead because of what they'd started?

They rolled to a stop near the front gate. Bullets peppered Ichigo's side of the car. Ogawa pulled him down. A bullet broke the window above his head and hit the seat between them.

"Shit, we're pinned."

It must have been an assault rifle or something. The rounds were coming faster than anything the other guards had. These ones must have been the most heavily arms. Grimmjow had not known this—it had not been accounted for in their plans.

Another spray of bullets. A tire popped. The car dropped to one side.

"Donovan!"

The poor American was their best hope. He swore and threw his door open, dropping low behind the jeep. Ichigo lost sight of him. They all waited in hopes Donovan would end it.

"Donovan!"

Another figure came running in. It was Kaito. He had rifle held in blood slicked hands. His eyes were wild and his shirt covered in blood splatter. But he didn't see what had them pinned in place. He didn't see the shooter on the wall until his head snapped back, and then his body lurched and staggered and created a macabre dance of death as the bullets of the assault rifle made him move this way and that, even after he'd died, still standing, eyes still wide open.

"KAITO!"

Donovan spun in anger. His shot went wide and the one that came back his way cut him in the shoulder. He fell back, no longer shielded by the jeep.

But other gunfire came from the wall. A small quick figure skirted the wall at ground level and Ichigo was sure it was the dojo master. He jumped up wildly—it was a distraction—because at the top of the wall someone else was running, and by their uneven movement, the arm that hung too low to one side, Ichigo knew it was Grimmjow.

He had a hand gun. He fired. He missed. He fired again as he ran all out, closing the distance between them.

The guard with the assault rifle turned away from the threat from below, and that deadly machine aimed for Grimmjow.

They collided just as a succession of bullets sounded in the night. Ichigo went rigid, watching the two figures stagger in a mortal embrace. He couldn't see the details, but he didn't need to. Several shots had gone off, and Grimmjow had been their only target. The guard fell away from the espada, staggering and falling to his knees, but behind him, Grimmjow still stood a few seconds longer. He teetered at the edge of the wall, right at the parting, where the guards could lean out and shoot if they needed to. And when he fell, he turned just enough Ichigo could see the flash of those blue eyes once more—even though that should be impossible at this distance. But he was sure, as he lay paralyzed in that car seat—that Grimmjow was looking at him, right when he fell over the edge and plummeted into the wasteland beyond.

"N-no…" Ichigo heard his own voice shake from him. He reached for the door handle but his hand slipped and went limp. He couldn't even get out of the car on his own. But he wanted to. He wanted to run up that wall, or through those doors. He had to, he had to get to Grimmjow. He had to find him, save him—

But Ogawa pulled him backwards from the car. A few last shots went off in the bunker houses behind them and the night went still. And so did Ichigo, losing the last thread of consciousness as he still reached back, toward the wall, toward the last stand of the last espada.

* * *

 ** _...exhausted! That was a big one, hope you made it through! Thanks for all the reviews so far, you are a very supportive audience and you have inspired me to get back into writing some of my original pieces I've let go for far too long..._**

 ** _Thank you!_**

 ** _Riza_**


	9. Chapter 9

"Yoshida. Yoshida."

Someone must have been with him, but they were gone when he parted his eyes. Ichigo could hear the voice as if it had just spoken, but he got the feeling it had been a while ago.

He didn't sit right away. His limbs and head felt heavy. He tasted cotton in his mouth and felt a crust of sleep sand in his eyes.

He couldn't remember how he'd gotten here at first. When he did finally sit, he felt sick to his stomach, and his head throbbed relentlessly, but he was able to stay up and look around. He saw a glass of water next to the bed, and a wrist watch. It wasn't his, he didn't think. Whose was it? Why had it been left here? He saw the other beds in the room. They were bunks, like in the military. There were personal belonging next to several, and boots beneath them. Coats hung on the wall and desk was equipped with laptop and speakers. He saw a stack of DVDs and books on a shelf and several packs of cigarettes.

Had he joined the JSDF? Why? He'd never planned to do something like that. Had it been his dad's idea?

He spotted another figure a few beds down. It was a young man, maybe in his twenties. He was sleeping. He had no shirt on and his shoulder was wrapped up tight. A second bandage wound around his calf. A magazine was draped over his chest, forgotten in sleep. The title was in English.

Right. The man was American. His name was Donovan. Ichigo remembered him slowly, first his face, then his voice, then his scream and gunfire and his arms carrying Ichigo through mayhem. He remembered Grimmjow's back leading them on, the gun so foreign in his hand.

"Donovan…" his voice was a rasp, not enough to wake the other. He shook his head. Why did he suddenly feel panicked? Why was his spine tingling and a cold settling in his gut?

"Don—"

The assault rifle. The guard. Grimmjow's body riddled with bullets. Teetering over that precipice.

"GRIMMJOW!"

Donovan sat bolt upright. He looked around for danger until he spotted Ichigo awake and rigid.

"No. He didn't! He didn't die!" Ichigo said to the empty air before him.

"Yoshida." Donovan rolled from his bed. He limped but made it over to him, dropping to his knees before him. "Yoshida calm down."

"That's not my name!" Ichigo grabbed his shoulders. The other winced, but he took hold of Ichigo in return.

"What is your name?"

"Ichigo."

"Ichigo. You need to calm down."

"Where is he?"

"Ichigo, you know. You remember, don't you?"

"NO! He can't be! He's too good to die that way. He's a warrior. You don't know. You never saw what he was before this. He can't be killed by something as stupid as a bullet!"

He was aware he was screaming. He was aware his fingers dug into the wounded man's arm. He was aware he must sound like a child, but that's what he felt like in this moment, a child who had lost everything, even his mortal enemy.

"Where is he?" he asked again, voice breaking, eyes flooding, and Donovan knew what he meant.

"We tried to recover his body, but it was gone when we got there."

Ichigo nodded slowly. "Because he was a hollow." And hollow souls broke apart and disintegrated once killed. Ichigo knew this well, but it hurt so much, to know there was absolutely nothing left of the sixth espada.

He collapsed forward. Donovan held him steady while the tears drained from him. He lay back after, and the American found a chair and sat beside him.

"We've taken over," he said after Ichigo was calm again. "It's been four days. You barely woke at all, I guess you don't remember that."

"No."

"I don't know if you remember, but Kaito was also killed…I can't believe they're both gone…" He waited for a bit before continuing. "Ihara's been giving the orders, he's the highest ranking after all. He managed to explain the situation to the other prisoners. There were a lot of casualties because some of them escaped in the middle of it. We buried nineteen. I'm really sorry about that. I didn't mean for them to get caught in it."

Ichigo was tuning out. Donovan was speaking English and it was taxing him to understand it all.

"We only managed to keep one guard alive. He's told us what we need to know to keep his superiors from finding out. We give the same daily check in we're supposed to, no problems so far. So just sleep, Ichigo. Get better, okay?"

"Donovan…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone my name."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the one who's going to kill all the Vandenreich and set everyone free."

There was a pause, then he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Just get some rest."

Donovan left. Ichigo didn't remember much of that conversation. With his head still unclear after the blow, he'd said things he hadn't meant to say. He only vaguely remembered it when he next woke, Donovan watching a movie on the laptop. He asked how Ichigo was, but he called him Yoshida like always. He got the impression the American hadn't read much into their conversation.

It was days before he was able to move around on his own. Donovan kept him company since his wounds were slow to heal as well—the shot through his calf had been worse than the one through Ichigo's thigh. Where Ichigo's had been through the side of his thigh, only hitting flesh, Donovan's had buried deep and they'd had to dig it out of him. His bone was likely fractured. He could only limp around the room a few feet before he had to sit again. The shot through his shoulder had caused him a great amount of blood loss and so his energy levels remained low and he slept often. But he seemed not to mind letting the others run the show. Ichigo got the impression he'd rather follow orders than make them.

Ichigo learned that the laptop did not connect to the internet, just like the one in Yota's office. There were files with inventory and residency information but other than that the laptop was used for entertaining the guards while off duty. The only means of communication seemed to be the radios which were used for daily check-ins.

When Ichigo was up and moving again, he took a tour of the camp with Donovan at his side, both of them on crutches, though in a day or two Ichigo would no longer need his. Many people came to greet him. He'd seen Ihara on and off and Kitanu—the dojo master who'd distracted the guard long enough for Grimmjow to kill him—came daily to check Ichigo's progress. He said his brother had had a severe concussion and he still remember how they'd treated it. Ichigo should know, being the son of a doctor and all, but he found it hard to think back that far, or hold onto information for very long. He felt scatter-brained all the time. It was frustrating and exhausting. But he understood enough when he took his walk around the camp, that as costly as their assault had been—it had been a success.

They passed the Captain's office. Ichigo paused then. Donovan had been the only one other than Grimmjow to glimpse what had gone down in there. He seemed to understand Ichigo's pause, and let him have a moment to enter the office by himself.

He did not go in to relive those moments, or to look at the bloodstains left from Yota's and Shibasaki's bodies. He went in to find the folder.

The room was in shambles. At some point in the fight, the papers must have gotten scattered. It looked like the others had searched in here briefly, but they had not discovered his and Grimmjow's papers, which tore when Ichigo tried to pull them from the floor and he realized Yota's blood had soaked into them. The images and information were distorted. No one could piece it together now, and that was fine. So Ichigo left the building, confident his identity was still protected.

He and Donovan moved on and met up with Ogawa.

"We've chosen our twenty three," Ogawa said.

"Your twenty three what?" Ichigo asked.

"Guards."

He shook his head, not understanding.

"A supply truck is coming in two days," Donovan elaborated. "We need to make it look like everything is normal."

"We need to pretend the guards still have control," Ogawa continued. "So we went through the records of the guards on the computer. Then we went through the camp and picked out those who most resembled the guards on file. I'll be one of them, and so will Ihara. And Sato." Sato was the school teacher.

"Good choices."

"Sorry you two couldn't be in on it, but none of the officers were African American or orange haired teenagers so you two will have to be prisoners again."

"That's fine." Ichigo didn't care. Like Donovan, he glad someone else was calling the shots.

"We'll have to work that day, but otherwise we can stop mining that damn hole. No one actually comes to collect the limestone after all."

Ichigo remembered Grimmjow's explanation about that. The work had been to keep them too busy to rebel. So much for that plan.

"We're going to have a meeting with the twenty three and make sure they've memorized their details. Then we'll go over the details with the prisoner again and make sure he hasn't left anything out."

"Is that the guard that's still alive?"

"Yes."

"Where is he?"

"In confinement. Don't worry, we've handled it."

Ichigo looked that way, to the building where Grimmjow had once been taken and beaten while Ichigo had suffered his humiliation in Yota's office. He wondered what his fellow rebels had done to the soldier.

"What happens after?" Ichigo asked as they made their way back toward the guard house which had apparently become reserved for those who'd enacted the plan.

"After we get resupplied, we start our next move. The jeep got all shot up, but some of the men have been working at it for days trying to get it to run again. Once it's operational, we think we should start liberating other camps."

Ichigo stopped. The last liberation had cost several lives, including Grimmjow's. Without the espada, how did mere humans expect to pull this off?

"Don't worry about it son," Ogawa put a hand on his arm and steered him forward. "You just worry about getting better, okay? We'll sort it out."

He left them at the door. Donovan watched Ichigo move not to his bed but to the desk with the files.

"Did they find out where the other camps are?" Ichigo asked, looking for the answer in the papers spread before him.

"Yes."

Donovan took the laptop and clicked around. He brought up a scanned, hand-drawn map. "We're pretty far out from the others. Probably because we were selected as being the strong ones. But there's another camp, also pretty remote. We'll wait on that one, not sure how much gas we have. The closest one is about thirty kilometers, we think."

"Where is the place we came from?"

"Back here." Ichigo traced the motion of his finger. It was on the opposite side of the screen. It would definitely take all their gas to get back there.

"Are you sure this is the right plan?" he asked.

"I think so. Ihara told me we can only run this charade for so long. Eventually there will be an inspection and they'll find out. We could kill whoever came, but when they didn't return, it would be obvious what happened. They'd probably send the Vandenreich after that, and we knew we can't win that fight."

"No we can't. Not while we're here, in this world."

"This world?"

"This is a different world right?"

Donovan shrugged. "I don't know."

"It has to be." He didn't add why he knew. Donovan didn't have spiritual pressure, so he didn't know what it felt like for Ichigo to be here, without his power. He didn't understand that if he could just escape this dimension, he'd become a soul reaper again. He'd be able to fight the people who'd enslaved them.

"You look tired. You should sleep, kid." Donovan followed him over to his bed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Ichigo rolled onto his side, back to Donovan. "I have one more question though."

"Yeah?"

"Grimmjow changed the plan, didn't he? He started it too early."

"Yeah, he did."

"He jeopardized the whole thing."

"Maybe."

"Now he's dead because of that."

"Yoshida…"

"Tell me what he did. Tell me what he said to you before it started."

"Actually…well, I'm not sure I should say."

At this, Ichigo rolled back over. "What?"

"I think he was kind of guessing what happened might happen…"

"That Yota would come for me?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me."

Donovan sighed and took his usual seat by the bed. "Grimmjow said Yota would be… _distracted_ with you. He convinced us that was a better time to strike, to make sure their leader went down first. He told me about the jeep and said if we could get our hands on that, it wouldn't matter that we didn't wait for the other guards to go to sleep because we could take them out in that."

"And you all believed him?"

"No. But he broke through the door and killed our guard before we could stop him. He didn't give us a choice, we had to act then or the whole plan would have been over before it started."

Ichigo absorbed this.

"So all those other prisoners who died are because of what he did."

"We don't know. We won. Maybe if we'd waited, we would have lost. Who knows."

"He told me he wouldn't intervene," Ichigo whispered.

"I guess he lied."

"…guess so."

* * *

Ichigo slept on Grimmjow's old bunk two days later. Donovan took his own, along with a few others who weren't up for working. Ichigo stared at the top rungs of the bed, remembering how much the rungs had stuck out and been uncomfortable that first night. He didn't even feel it now. The supply truck came and went without incident. No one bothered to do an inspection and Ichigo was able to return to the guard house. But he was tired of being tired, and bored of sitting doing nothing, so he left again shortly, trying to build up his strength.

He spent quite a bit of time with Sato, the school teacher. Donovan sometimes joined him but the crutches hurt his shoulder. He would still be a while getting better. It was thirteen days since their fight for freedom. Ichigo still didn't feel quite right in his head, but he wasn't losing his balance so often anymore and he could eat full meals again.

Everyone seemed to look out for him. He was the youngest in the camp and he was now known for his part in planning the rebellion. They knew he'd lost his only friend and been hurt. He sort of became everyone's kid brother. It was strange, because as a soul reaper, he didn't even think about his age anymore. He wasn't a kid, he was just a warrior. He could do things his friends couldn't. He could defeat enemies older and more trained. But without those powers he was just a kid again. How strange that in this war, it was _now_ that he felt like child.

When cans of gasoline were discovered, a scouting mission was conceived. They now had enough gas to make several trips, and they decided to get preliminary reports on the closest bunker. Ihara led a small group out. Everyone became busy making plans for this expedition and future ones. But not Ichigo. He wandered through camp by himself, and found himself before the confinement building.

No one stood guard. He supposed that was an indication of what he'd find inside. He went in anyway.

It was dark. He stood a long time, letting his eyes adjust. The building was hard concrete all around, chains and bars and pools of condensation on the floor. It was quite cold too, the hard stone kept sunlight from heating the interior and the recent cold nights making the temperature colder than what it had been in the afternoon light.

The prisoner was at the end. Ichigo moved to him slowly, but for some reason, he didn't find himself afraid to see. He was calm, as he stepped before the bars, and took in the abused figure inside.

Ichigo recognized him at once. It had never occurred to him that when Grimmjow made his violent entrance and killed Shibasaki and Yota, that there had only been one guard outside. The other—Gonda—must have fled when Grimmjow killed his comrade. Or maybe he'd just gone on patrol, or even to the bathroom. Ichigo hadn't had enough brain power left at the time to question it. So now he stared in on the man who'd shot him in the leg and tried to restrain him for Yota.

The man recognized him too. He went stiff, where he sat in only his underwear on a metal chair. His arms were chained tightly at his back, behind the chair and his feet to the back chair legs. Ichigo now understood why no one was on guard—there was no chance the prisoner could escape.

He'd been beaten, that was for sure. His body and face were black and blue. His knees were skinned and scraped. His nose was out of place. He looked on Ichigo with fear at first, but when the teen made no move to enter the cell or do anything, his eyes narrowed to slits.

"You little fuck. You get off on this?"

Ichigo could have laughed. What about what this man had done to him?

"You go get someone to let me go right now."

Ichigo still just stood there.

"Listen kid, I already fucking pissed myself. Go get someone to let me use the bathroom right now."

Ichigo looked to the door, then back to the man inside. "No."

"What?"

"No."

"You gonna make me shit myself?"

"Yes."

His eyes widened. His face tightened. He cursed and looked away from Ichigo.

"Seriously kid, don't make me do that." His voice was low now, betraying his true fear and humiliation.

Ichigo continued to stand there.

"Kid, come on, please…"

Ichigo didn't say, "after what you did, you deserve it." He didn't say anything. He just watched the man, his stomach tightening over and over, trying to stop his body from doing what it had to do. And Ichigo walked away.

He stepped outside, and didn't look back.

* * *

 _ **I know, slow chapter, but I hope you are still engaged. Things will pick up again, but I hope you are still enjoying the slower parts too! Thanks so much for your reviews and reactions from last chapter!**_

 _ **Riza**_


	10. Chapter 10

"We can't see anything on the inside." Ihara reported at the table of their original rebellion group. "But the set-up appears to be just the same. By arriving in the jeep and in uniforms, we should be able to get inside. Once inside, we can attack just like we did here. We'll go in after nightfall, when the least of them are active. And we do just what we did two weeks ago."

"But with the men on the wall, you'll be fish in a barrel," Donovan argued, and Ichigo was sure he was reliving the moment when Kaito was torn to shreds right in front of him.

"We take the wall guards first."

"Then those asleep will hear."

"Ah, that's where we get creative." Ihara nodded to Ogawa who pulled out a box with a long round shape in it. "It's pretty rudimentary, but some of the men and I whipped up a few of these," he held it up. "Homemade silencer. We can take out the guards on the wall without waking the others."

"Shit," Donovan swore, impressed.

"What will be important is saving their commanding officer. Yota had to die here, but that's been causing some problems. The supply guys expected him to sign off on the delivery. We were able to convince him he was busy this time, but next time they'll be suspicious. If we can get the CO of the other camp and _convince_ him to cooperate, then we'll have a better time of covering things up until we're ready to move on to the next camp."

"Their bound to catch on when we have two or three though," Ichigo spoke for the first time.

"Yes, they are. That's why once we have those three camps and their three vehicles, we need to plan a simultaneous strike on the main compound where we first came from. As far as we know, all supplies and orders come through the portal there, and from there, are distributed to us. We wait for the supply truck to arrive at any of the three camps, then we take it. With that truck, we can carry more men to the main encampment, along with the three jeeps and a shit load of guns. We let the supply truck through the main gate before letting the jeeps be spotted. The men inside the supply truck will be armed and will take out the command there, Trojan horse style."

"And the jeeps sweep in and clean up anyone who's trying to escape," Ogawa finished.

"That's insane!" Donovan exclaimed once he understood the gist of what had been said, but his broad smile showed he thought it was all the right kinds of crazy.

"Yes it is, but if it works, we're home free. Once we have the command, we can go back and free the last camps. Then we can figure out how to get our asses back through that portal and into the fight."

Into the fight. All this plan was just to get out of the purgatory they were in. It was exhausting to think that it was the mere lead-up to the war.

"It's a good plan," Ichigo said at the end. It sort of sounded ridiculous, but it also sounded well planned and carefully thought out, like Grimmjow's plan had been. "Can I help?"

"We'll see, kid. Let us handle the first raid. You and Donovan stay here and make sure our 'guards' are ready if there is an inspection or anything else. By the third raid, you two might be ready for action. Alright?"

"Alright. When will you go?"

"Tomorrow night. The plan is set. There is no point wasting time."

Ichigo agreed. There was no point in waiting, but waiting was all Ichigo and Donovan could do. There really wasn't much management for them to do around the camp. Everyone knew how precarious their situation was and they were all on task. So Ichigo and Donovan waited by the radio. There was a transmitter in the jeep. They had switched it over to a different frequency so they could communicate with the jeep and not have the other compounds pick up on their signal.

It was a long, tense wait. No news came until about midnight, and when it did, there was no describing their relief at hearing Ogawa's voice.

"It's over," he reported.

"Did everyone make it?" Ichigo asked.

"Everyone on our end."

His relief was muted by the unspoken part of that sentence.

"Listen son, you said you have some medical training."

"Yeah…well, a bit. Why?"

"Just be ready in the morning. I'll come pick you up."

Ichigo looked to Donovan. Ogawa had said their men made it through, but had they been injured? The other didn't know either. It was a long wait until morning. Ichigo washed up and dressed in the prison guard uniforms stowed in the storage locker of the guard house. If he was going to be in the jeep, he'd have to dress the part as much as he could, in case they ran into someone. Donovan handed him a cap. He did his best to tuck his unruly hair under it. It was too long. He'd have to cut it when he got the chance. The last thing Donovan did was to bring him over to the main desk. From the drawer he pulled out a piece of metal bent into the shape of a U and with copper wire twisted around it.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked, but he soon understood when he saw Donovan get batteries and place the two ends of copper wire against them. "Oh, an electromagnet."

"For the chip in your arm. Ogawa made it."

Ichigo let his wrist be taken Donovan waved the electromagnet back and forth over the spot where his chip was inserted.

"Won't this cause problems? I mean, won't command get suspicious when the signal dies?"

"We spaced each out. Turns out more of the men in the other bunkhouses were dying than we knew—Yota was pretty cruel, and since the cold hit I guess it was worse for some of the bunkhouses. We've just cleared those of us from the original assault team so far, so no one should get suspicious."

"And now they can't see that we've left camp."

"Exactly."

After that, Ichigo was set to leave. Donovan walked him to the gate. Ichigo didn't know what to say to him. He didn't know if he'd be returning here at all. He shook hands with the American, then looked the camp over. His eyes caught on the confinement building, where their prisoner still remained. Then they travelled up the wall, right above him. He stared at the last place Grimmjow had stood.

"I'll see you soon." Donovan gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Ogawa will take care of you."

Take care of him. He supposed that's what they'd all been doing since the coup. He wished that just for a moment, they could see who he really was, that they could know who he'd been, at least.

Ogawa arrived just at sun-up. He gave Donovan a wave but wasted no more time and spun off into the desert again.

Ichigo stared out at the open wasteland. It wasn't like Hueco Mundo at all. There was no sand, just a dry, red dirt stretching for miles. It was mostly flat, and wind buffeted the vehicle. Ichigo had never considered how much the walls of their encampment protected them from the elements. Now the road ahead was obscured by driving dust. In fact, they weren't even on a road, there was no specific pathway but the land was hard and flat and they were able to bounce along at a good speed.

"So your dad was a doctor?" Ogawa started.

"Yeah. I helped in the clinic some. What is it?"

"The camp. We took it down with little issue, but when we went to set the prisoners free…well, there wasn't much celebrating. You ever heard of dysentery?"

Ichigo nodded slowly. He knew what it was, but he hadn't heard of any cases in the clinic or even the news. He knew it more for history class on the world wars.

"We just didn't know what to do for them. There are a lot of them sick. We need to move forward with our plans. Do you think you can do something for the poor bastards?"

"I'll do whatever I can."

"Good."

They pulled in after another ten minutes of driving. Ichigo looked up at the gates as they passed through. It was an eerie feeling of déjà vu.

"Was this a labour camp as well?"

"It was."

Ichigo could see all the prisoners gathered in the yard. They were huddled under blankets, drinking and eating was Ihara's men passed around. On one side of the yard were four bodies, a captured soldier busy digging graves. As they got closer, ichigo could see that the men in the yard were gaunt-faced and weak. Their skin looked too tight and their eyes were dark. They were quiet and calm, unlike Ichigo's camp after their raid.

"We suggested they come outside to get away from the sick. Some insisted they stay with friends though. As you can see, these guys haven't been treated very well. Believe it or not, Yota wasn't the worst of the commanders."

"Did you capture this one alive?"

"More or less. I think he will be cooperative."

Ichigo did not feel bad for the man. He passed through a group and into the first bunkhouse.

The smell struck him at once. He took a step back and bumped into Ogawa.

"There are masks in the guard house. Take precautions, kid. Don't get sick yourself."

"I'll be careful. When are you going to go to the other compound?"

"Not just yet. We haven't located many supplies here yet. That might mean another supply run soon. We'll have to prepare both camps, which means Ihara and I will have to do back to ours. We'll have to wait longer than we wanted but there's no getting around it."

Ichigo nodded. It was true. They could not blow their progress by being too hasty. He'd learned that lesson from Grimmjow.

Ichigo went to the guard house and got the masks. They were the same white ones sold to protect from germs in the subway or if you were sick and needed to go in public. He put one over his head but winced when it touched his cheek.

He turned and looked in the mirror on the locker door next to him. The baton had left him scarred and the wound was still sensitive, even after all this time. There was no swelling anymore, but the flesh remained dark. The bruises had been almost black before and only the outer edge had faded to green and yellow. Red lines ran through his skin at the point where his flesh had split. It was going to be scarred forever now.

It didn't really matter, he supposed. He didn't need to be handsome to win this war, he just needed to be alive, and on the other side of the portal to this world.

He left the guard house and began his work.

He worked tirelessly for two days. He barely stopped in that whole time, going from bed to bed, patient to patient, trying to help rehydrate some and make sure others didn't over hydrate. The ones who complained of constant thirst were the ones most in danger. And they also held their stomachs and cried for the agony. Some couldn't get to the bathroom in time. Many uninfected prisoners worked with him, clearing up messes constantly. But it was never enough to lift the smell, even when they opened doors and windows. Ichigo gagged on the steps outside several times, not wanting the patients to see him like that. Someone offered him a smoke and he took it. It worked to fill his mouth and nostrils with a different type of poison and remove the other scents.

They prepared for the supply truck. They got confirmation of its planned visit over the radio. Ihara and Ogawa returned to their camp with the jeep to continue the charade of being the guards. The remaining fighters who'd gone with them kept control. They somehow got the commander of this compound to agree to a plan. He walked stiffly with pain in his eyes but he was cleanly dressed and they'd left no marks on his face. He signed for the supplies and added a lie just before they left, telling them he'd been informed Yota was quite ill and that command should be advised. It was a stop-gap solution and no doubt more trouble would arise because of it, but they had to say something or risk being found out altogether.

When Ihara and Ogawa returned, they brought Donovan with them. Ichigo was relieved to see him, and the young man smiled wide at him.

"Putting me on babysitting duty," he joked, but the truth was Ihara was gearing up for the third strike and he wanted Donovan to be his eyes in this camp. Even more hinged on the third encampment because they had found few in this camp who could contribute to the final fight.

Ichigo learned that Donovan didn't have much stomach for the sick and infirmed. He had tried to assist Ichigo, but the whole scene had overwhelmed him quickly. It had been weeks since the first raid, but Ichigo suggested Donovan stay away because his immune system might still be weakened from his bullet wounds. It might have been true, but it was at least a way to help him save face.

Ichigo lost track of deaths. Despite his every effort, several succumbed. Some of them were ready—the pain and exhaustion too much for them to bear anymore—but a few were not, and they cried out and moaned and sobbed before they passed.

Ichigo cried daily, but only to himself, while he showered long to make sure he got rid of any germs. What if this was what they found at the other camp? He supposed as long as they got the jeeps, they had enough strong men at their camp to carry out their plan. But what about the war? If everyone else in this world was sick and dying and broken, who would be left to fight on the other side—or even just to return home and find lost loved ones?

Ichigo and Donovan were the only ones from their camp left behind when the third raid was scheduled. Those who'd fought in the second went with Ogawa and Ihara to repeat their actions a third time. Those who were still strong in this camp, had been made to look like the guards, and anyone else, were watching over—or even interrogating—the surviving guards and commander.

So by default, Ichigo and Donovan became the main relay between their camp, this one, and the men in the jeep. Ichigo left his patients with the others he'd trained to care for their symptoms and joined Donovan in their pseudo war room. Donovan had maps and lists of names out. They had acquired a list of all staff at each encampment, so once the killing and capturing was done, they'd read the names of the soldiers back to Donovan and Ichigo and they would confirm they had all their men.

It was a longer drive to the camp, the better part of an hour. They had chosen to scout it out only when they got there. If all appeared normal, they would proceed with the plan. If they saw anything that varied from the other two camps, they would retreat and re-strategize.

At midnight, they got the call that the men were in sight of the camp. As of yet, it appeared exactly the same as the others. After a half hour of watching, they decided to proceed.

Ichigo and Donovan waited. And waited. And waited.

"Oh god…" Donovan clasped his head in his hands. Ichigo had already concluded it himself. "They've been caught. They're dead. It's over."

It would indeed be over for them all. If they'd been caught, then the third camp would put out the call and they would be overrun with soldiers, maybe even Vandenreich.

"We have to radio back to our camp and let them know."

"I'm sure they already do." They would have heard Ogawa on the radio as well.

"Sato," Ichigo radioed anyway. "I think they've failed."

"Get out of their Yoshida. They'll hit you first, you're closest."

"I can't just leave these people."

"You have to."

Ichigo looked to Donovan in despair. The other stared right back, as resolved as Ichigo not to let it end like this.

"We arm the twenty three here," Donovan suggested.

"They already have weapons."

"Good, then we warn them and we take the other jeep."

Since Ogawa and Ihara had left in the jeep from their original camp, there was still one here to be used. They had decided against sending two on the mission in case this very thing happened.

"So you think we should got back to our camp?" Ichigo asked.

"No. We head toward the other camp. We'll cut them off before they get here. All they have are jeeps too, remember? It will take a while for the Head Command to send reinforcements. We take them out in the desert."

Ichigo was shocked. Donovan had come up with that in seconds while he'd been resigning himself to despair. He felt ashamed, but there wasn't time for that now. He nodded his agreement. "Go tell the others. I'll radio back to Sato and let him know.

There was arguing from the other end, but Ichigo ignored it. It was probably a suicide mission, but running and hiding was suicide as well. He knew their camp would be best equipped to fight. He supposed he could have increased his chances of survival by fortifying himself with them, but his instincts agreed with Donovan. So he put on a guard's cap and jacket, slung a rifle over his shoulder and met him at the jeep.

"I don't suppose you drive," Donovan was the better shooter but Ichigo shook his head. He'd never had a chance to learn to drive an automatic, let alone a standard, while he'd been fighting for the universe's existence.

"Well load a cartridge and be ready."

Ichigo did as he said. He rolled the window down and pushed his seat back and spent the drive with his rifle aimed out the door, ready to shoot. The moon came out full and clear when the clouds passed. The cold blue light was nearly as bright as the day time.

"Look." Donovan nodded straight ahead. Ichigo could see where the dirt had been packed down by tire tracks. They were following Ogawa's tracks of an hour earlier.

"I can't believe they didn't make it."

"We were lucky to get one camp, let alone two…I suppose we were asking for too much to get a third."

"But it was a good plan…Hey, Yoshida."

Ichigo looked up again. He saw what Donovan did at once: the track ahead of them swerved left and right and Donovan just put the brakes on in time before he ran straight into the bumper of the other jeep.

It was facing them, having swerved around in a donut in the dirt. The doors were all open, static came from the radio.

"What the fuck?" Donovan put them in park and got his weapon. "They didn't even make it to the gates."

"Be careful," Ichigo warned as Donovan jumped out of the vehicle. He didn't know what they should do, but he got the feeling it was a bad idea to leave the relative protection of the jeep.

"Yoshida there's no one here," Donovan hissed.

Ichigo watched the desert another moment before getting out to take a look himself. He came around to the driver's side. The keys were still in the ignition.

"If it was soldiers, why wouldn't they drive it back in?"

"Maybe they couldn't drive like you," Donovan suggested weakly.

"It doesn't make sense. Something's really off here."

"What should we do?" They were close enough to the camp they could see it, and if that was the case and those soldiers were on alert, they could probably see them, or at least the second jeep. He hated to suggest it, but he saw no hope at the moment.

"You put this in gear for me and I'll drive it back. We retreat out of sight of this camp, and wait for them to come to us."

Donovan considered. He looked like he wanted to carry out a one man attack on the camp right then and there. But he conceded to Ichigo's logic.

"Okay, I'll—"

Donovan lurched forward and fell across the hood of the jeep. He sputtered for breath, and reached around his back, as if trying to pry something from him. It took Ichigo's eyes and brain several seconds to pick out the slithering dark shape behind him. It was so black it was a mere shadow in the night. The only thing that stood out were the white bone claws pinning Donovan to the hood and the two bright points of light that must have been its eyes.

"R-run."

Ichigo took several paces back, but he pressed his rifle into his shoulder and took aim.

But Donovan had told him to run because he could see the ones behind Ichigo. The rifle hit the ground, and seconds later, Ichigo did too.

* * *

 _ **Duh, Duh, Duhhh...until next week!**_

 _ **Thanks for reading and reviewing,**_

 _ **Riza**_


	11. Chapter 11

Ichigo's whole body ached and was covered in dirt from head to toe. The hollows had dragged him back here, and even if he'd been unconscious at the time, he felt it all now. Donovan looked just the same as him—as did Ihara, Ogawa and the others who'd been captured before them. It was his only relief upon waking up in a dank cell—to see their companion's dirtied faces and realize they were still alive.

But since waking, Ichigo had been sick several times. His body couldn't handle a second concussion while he wasn't even fully recovered from the first. The others had helped him get to one side of the cell so he didn't make a mess everywhere. He now lay slumped against the wall, while Ogawa yelled at the guards for some water to help Ichigo wash the acid from his throat.

No answer to their cries came. They were alone in their prison. The others had been awake when they came in. They said the camp looked the same from the outside but once inside they'd seen it was differently set up. Some of the bunk houses were like their own had been, but others were solid concrete, like the confinement building had been. And all they'd seen were hollows milling about in the yard, patrolling the walls. Clearly, the hollows had effected a raid of their own and taken over, but what that meant for any humans in the area, they didn't know.

The building they were in now looked like confinement, but larger. There were several more cells and they looked like they'd been well used judging by dried stains on the walls and floor and the broken or bent chains no doubt from tortured hollows.

"Dumb freaks don't even understand we're on the same side," Ogawa complained.

"We're wearing guard uniforms and drove here in their jeeps," Ihara reminded. "Of course they think we're the enemy."

"But what happened to the humans here? Maybe the hollows ate them all."

"Maybe. We won't know until someone fucking comes to talk to us."

At his words the door opened. Several hollows came down the hall toward them. Ihara stood up to meet them.

"Listen, we're—"

"Shut up." The most humanoid of them spoke with an echoing voice that bounced off the inside of his hollow mask. "Stand up."

They all obeyed, but Donovan had to help Ichigo. Everything was off kilter for the teen. He clung back to the American and when his vision settled into place he realized the hollows were staring at him.

"It's him. Take him." He pointed directly at Ichigo.

"Hey, back off!" Donovan made a swing but the hollows were big and strong and despite the protests of the others they got hold of Ichigo and hauled him out of the cell.

"Yoshida!" Donovan called after him. Ichigo caught Ihara and Ogawa's tight faces. They must have known whatever was about to happen to him was not good.

He would have fallen if he hadn't had two hollows on either side propelling him along. His right foot kept getting in the way of his left for some reason and he found it difficult to hold his head up. Damn. Was he always going to be like this? Did he have permanent damage from that baton? He supposed it didn't matter much, since he was likely about to die.

He glimpsed bits and pieces of the camp. He saw hollows of all sorts, moving about the night, watching him curiously as he was forced past them. There didn't actually seem to be too many of them—not two hundred like the other camps. What had happened here? How long had they been in control of their camp?

His foot caught on wood. He realized there were stairs ahead of him and he was shoved up them and through a set of doors.

It was the probably the captain's office, but Ichigo didn't see much of anything when he was shoved to the floor. His hands smacked hard against the wood, trying to brace his body. He waited for worse, but he was left to catch his breath where he fell.

"This is him, the one with orange hair." The hollow reported to someone else. Ichigo could only see boots and pants. He was still working on getting the energy to lift his head and not vomit again. The legs at least, looked human enough. He waited for whatever the leader of the hollows would say, whatever terrible fate now awaited him.

"Shit. Of course it's fucking you causing all that trouble in the desert."

Ichigo went rigid at the voice. He watched a cigarette fall before him and the boot stamp it out.

"Well, _Yoshida_ , you gonna say hi to your old bunk mate or what?"

Hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him up from the floor, much like the last night they'd seen each other.

"Shit, you look worse than when I left you."

Ichigo stared back into blue eyes he'd never thought he'd see again. He couldn't make sense of that mocking grin and those sharp canines, that wild blue hair and bone mask that all belonged to a man he knew was dead.

"Master Jaggerjaques?" The hollow behind them asked tentatively.

"Turns out you caught us some allies, Tee. Go get the others, we have a lot of catching up to do."

* * *

Ichigo stared at Grimmjow as he wrapped cloth around the teen's head. It was just the two of them in the washroom, the others had been gathered and given the quick explanation Ichigo had received: the camp was in in hollow control, and Grimmjow was in charge.

"I just don't understand," the teen said for the third time as Grimmjow secured the bandage. The espada had a thick wrap around his previously broken arm, and what looked like fresh cuts and bruises on his face and arms, but nothing to indicate he'd been shot half a dozen times.

"You've said that already. Just how bad was that concussion?"

"Bad."

"Well I suppose it won't matter once we get to the other side. Your spiritual pressure will take care of it then."

"Grimmjow."

"What?"

"I can't believe you're alive."

"Yeah, yeah, it's a fucking miracle, ain't it? Come on, let's go back to the others."

He pulled Ichigo up. The teen staggered. Grimmjow steadied him and looked him straight on.

"Yo kid, you still with it? We've still got a ways to go before we're free. I need to know you can make it until then."

"Yeah. I know. I just want to understand how this is possible."

"How the fuck do you think?" Grimmjow backed off a moment, and while the door was still closed, he pulled his shirt up. "Don't forget what I am."

Ichigo stared at the still red scar over where Grimmjow's heart should be. Another one was staggered just below it, about an inch above his hollow hole.

"He shot me in the heart and the gut, kid, and I ain't got either."

"But all those bullets..."

"Went right through my hollow hole. It was this one that caused problems." He pointed to the one halfway just above his stomach. "Anyway, I'd rather not repeat myself. Might as well tell you all the story at the same time."

He rolled his shirt down and took Ichigo's arm again. He got him seated at the table where the rest of their allies were waiting, still nervously watching the other hollows.

"We need those jeeps back," Ihara started before Grimmjow could even address them. "You shouldn't have left them out in the desert like that."

"What else were we supposed to do?" Grimmjow asked as if Ihara was stupid and it took Ichigo a second to clue in. "Hollow don't drive, idiot."

Grimmjow acted pretty human most of the time and it was easy to forget he would have never operated a vehicle before.

"Right. Shen and Raito, go get them. And radio back to camp, let them know we aren't dead." Ihara ordered two of his men. Grimmjow nodded and his right-hand hollow—Tee—followed them out.

"Okay," Ihara sat back in his chair now, "enlighten us, Jaggerjaques. How in the Hell are you not only alive, but in charge of this fucking place?"

Grimmjow sat now too, and took them through the events since the night they all thought he'd died.

"Like I reminded the kid, I ain't got guts where the rest of you do." He pressed his finger against his shirt to remind them all of his hollow space. "I took a bad one in the chest but otherwise it wasn't lethal. Falling off that wall, however, was another story. Broke my arm—again—and must have rattled my brain a bit because I woke up in the desert the next day. There was nothing. I think I walked out there by myself, but I don't remember anything. I must have been stunned or something.

"I was pretty much done for at that point. I'd lost too much blood and I couldn't see signs of anything anywhere. Wasn't much later though, a jeep came driving by and picked me up. I found out later that there are wild hollows out here—not adhuchas or anything, just beasts. They've slipped through from Hueco Mundo, but once they do, there's no spiritual pressure here and they can't get back. They get stuck, they go crazy and apparently cause a lot of trouble. So there are soldiers who patrol the desert looking for them and killing them. That's who found me."

"So if they are slipping through from Hueco Mundo, that means we must be closest to that world," Ichigo interjected. "Are we in a shadow dimension of Hueco Mundo?"

Grimmjow gave him a look, and he realized he shouldn't have spoken. The humans knew quite a bit about the spiritual world now, but not that much. The others were giving Ichigo a quizzical look.

"Yes. Exactly like what I told you at the first camp, Yoshida." Grimmjow covered quickly, but it wasn't entirely convincing. If Donovan could understand everything Grimmjow said, he probably would have put two and two together and realized Ichigo was a soul reaper, but much of what Grimmjow said was too complex for his elementary Japanese.

"Anyway," Grimmjow continued, "They brought me back here, when they saw what I was wearing."

Ihara's eyes bulged but it was Ogawa who spoke.

"Then they know you escaped our camp! They must have reported it. But then why did no one come, or bring you back?"

Grimmjow lifted his broken arm. "That chip they inserted in us back at base camp shattered with my bone. They tried reading my id from it, but couldn't. They didn't know what camp I was from, and I overheard them discussing what to do. They weren't even sure if I was from their own camp—except they knew _they_ didn't shoot me. They didn't call it in because they didn't know who they'd be getting into trouble if they did. I'm pretty sure the humans are scared shitless of their Vandenreich leaders."

Ogawa's eyes traced over the lingering marks on Grimmjow face. "I'm guessing they tried to persuade you to tell them where you came from."

"Tried. Didn't succeed."

Ichigo tensed. They'd tortured him? But Grimmjow seemed nonchalant about it, as he always did—war, torture—it was clinical to him.

"So how did you get the upper hand?"

"I've got a bit of a reputation where I come from. This camp is entirely made up of hollows. When they found out I was here, it didn't take long for rebellion. The guards threw me into general population thinking the rest of the hollows would finish me off."

"What? Why would they kill you?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Hollows ain't really for nursing one another back to health. More like, putting one another out of their misery."

The others made faces. Ichigo understood.

"Instead, I told them what to do, and they did it. It was a little harder carrying out the plan here Hollows didn't exactly get equal treatment as humans here." His eyes strayed toward the window. Ichigo followed them and spotted a bunk house. He wondered what the conditions were like, if this was an entirely hollow camp. If Yota was any indication, the guards were not very fond of the supernatural creatures.

"Those concrete buildings that look like confinement, are they the bunk houses?" Ihara asked.

Grimmjow nodded. "We're just mindless beasts, after all, so I suppose _humane_ doesn't apply to us," he said ironically. "Anyway, got a bit messy, but we made it. "

"You killed all of the guards, even the captain?"

"Yes. I couldn't exactly convince the other hollows that leaving some alive was a good idea after what they'd been through here. So we've had no cover story and we've been waiting for a supply truck or someone to come along and realize we're in control. That's why the hollows nabbed you in the desert. We figured our best shot was to grab whoever came our way before they got all the way here. But others want to run for it. I've convinced them to stay for now, but we better come up with something quick or they'll leave and no doubt get caught and bring us all down."

"So how long have you had control?" Ogawa asked.

"Nearly two weeks."

" _What_?"

"I was kinda out of commission after the overthrow," Grimmjow explained flatly. Ichgo looked again to the healing marks on his body. If they were two weeks old, they must have been bad. And with those injuries on top of bullet wounds and a broken arm, it wasn't surprizing he'd been down of the count. "Even when I was mobile again, I couldn't make contact with you until I knew for sure you'd won."

"And no supply trucks have come in that time?" Ichigo asked.

"Nope. Don't really feed us all that much out here. But one's bound to show up soon. And when it does and we've got no captain—and neither do you—alarm bells are going to start going off."

"Especially since we took over the other camp between us," Ihara added. Grimmjow looked up at him, then back to Ichigo for confirmation.

"Shit. Then I hope you have an end-game planned, because this is all going to end soon, one way or the other."

"We do," Ihara explained the Trojan horse plan. Grimmjow listened, a smile growing on his face.

"Well, looks like we might actually have a shot at this."

"We better get moving though," Ihara said soberly. "I'll contact our camp and let them know we're a go. And we need to find out when that supply truck is here next. Jaggerjaques, you think we'll get some help from your new friends?"

"Definitely."

"Good. I'll leave it to you to get them assembled."

Everyone consented to this plan. They broke apart, everyone on task.

"You're with me." Grimmjow didn't give Ichigo much choice. He took his arm and made him follow him around the camp as he started handing out orders to his fellow hollows. When they were alone again, he pulled Ichigo into an empty building.

"Listen, things are going to start happening fast. I need to make sure we're on the same page."

"About what…" Ichigo was looking past Grimmjow to the room around them. There were no beds, no showers, no bathrooms. It must have stood empty since the rebellion but there was still a bad smell in the air. And along the walls were chains. "Hey Grimmjow, is this where they kept you?"

"Don't worry about that." Grimmjow grabbed his arm and refocused his attention.

"But why didn't they put you in here in the first place?"

"They were at capacity back then, but just shut up and listen okay?"

"Okay. What do we have to be on the same page about?"

"About just who gets out of this alive."

Ichigo eyed him now, hard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means the supply truck plan is good, but it ain't gonna be without casualties. We'll be lucky if half of us come out of this alive. I need to know you and I are gonna be a part of that lucky half."

Ichigo pulled his arm away from Grimmjow. "You want to let our allies die in our place?"

"No shit, asshole."

"You bastard."

"What? What's the point of any of this if you die, Kurosaki? Ain't you the one who can actually kill Juha Bach? And what exactly do you think will happen to our allies if they arrive on the other side without us? They'll be walking into a deathtrap of Vandenreich or other human traitors. _We_ , on the other hand, will have our powers restored. We'll have the power to fight back, they won't."

"I can't let them die for me, Grimmjow."

"Hey, the whole world was willing to let you die if it meant saving them, idiot. Your friends, your soul reaper allies, they know pitting your against the King is practically suicide, but they all lined up to help you get there."

"That's war! I have to face him!"

"Exactly. _This is war_ , Kurosaki, and your new best friends have to face their enemies too. You can't save everyone, kid. You gotta get that straight or we're definitely never making it out of here alive."

Ichigo sagged back against the wall, weighed down by Grimmjow's words.

"I don't want to win this way."

"Then you'll lose."

"I'll lose if I let them all sacrifice themselves for me." He pushed off the wall. "Just like you, Grimmjow."

"What?"

"You went back on your word. You stopped Yota, and you nearly died doing it. How can you stand there and tell me to let them pay the price, when you couldn't even do it yourself?"

"Fuck you, don't turn this around on me."

"No seriously Grimmjow. It's the same thing! Tell me why you compromised the plan for me!"

"Because you woulda been too messed up after! I know it's gonna be you, okay? You're the one who's gonna kick Bach's ass. All this concussion shit will be gone once you get your powers back, but _that_ …I don't think you coulda come back from that, not completely anyway—not enough to defeat him."

"So if I wasn't going to kill Bach, you would have—"

"Kurosaki," Grimmjow interrupted. "What difference does it make? I need you as much as you need me, nothing's changed. Just stop arguing with me. I'll make sure you stay protected when everything goes down. And whatever happens, when things go down, don't get separated from me, you hear?"

Ichigo let out a long breath. "You know me, Grimmjow…I can't sacrifice others for myself."

Grimmjow looked like he wanted to punch him in the face, but he restrained himself. "Do you want to save the fucking world or not?"

"You know I do."

"Then let me handle things for now. You go back to the officer quarters. I'll meet you there later."

He opened the door. Ichigo took a step but then paused. "Grimmjow, what about you? It hasn't been enough time since all those injuries. You're not up for this fight right now."

"Trust me, if it means getting out of this shithole, I'm up for anything."

"It's just…I already watched you die once. I really don't want to go through that again."

"If you do what I say, you won't have to. We'll both make it out, Kid, if we do this right."

Ichigo did not agree with Grimmjow's assertions about sacrificing their friends for the greater good, but he was exhausted, his head was killing him and he let the conversation end there.

He played the possible events of their final battle over and over again in his mind. He pictured a hollow army escaping the gate to this world, regaining their powers and sweeping through Hueco Mundo like reinforcements. He pictured his friends finally finding their way home. He pictured a blood bath, and a bodies littering the interior of the supply truck. He pictured the Vandenreich showing up and putting an end to their rebellion before it even began.

Last he pictured his patients at the other camp, dying in their own fluids. All the people he'd never save now, because it was already too late.

Returning to the real world meant returning as Ichigo Kurosaki but right now, saying he was Ichigo Kurosaki, felt like a lie. He wasn't Satoro Yoshida, he knew that, but in many ways he felt more like an unremarkable human boy than ever. In fact, he almost felt like a burden. How could he stand up and tell all these people he was going to save them, when they'd been saving him all this time?

Grimmjow found him later, but it wasn't in the officer's quarters. He found him near the jeeps at the gate. Ichigo had wandered there, lost in thought. Grimmjow cursed him out for not following instruction but when he found him half vacant he quieted and just steered him back to the quarters. When Ichigo was prostrate on the bed, he overheard Grimmjow trying to communicate with Donovan.

"Is he always like this now?"

"Concussion," Donovan tried vainly to explain with his limited vocabulary. "Twice."

"Did it go away before?" Grimmjow pressed. "You know, this one, with the baton." He must have made a motion indicating Icigo's scar.

"He got better…slow…still, uh…messy sometimes."

" _Confused?"_

"Yes, confused."

"Great."

"He get better"

"I damn well hope so. Stay with him, understand?

"Yes, understand."

Ichigo listened to Grimmjow leave. He lay a long while, still thinking over Grimmjow's words, how adamant he'd been. But then those thoughts became jumbled and pain throbbed through his skull and he gave into sleep in order to escape it all.

* * *

 ** _Yep, he's back! Hope you enjoyed,_**

 ** _Riza_**


	12. Chapter 12

It was daylight when he woke and Donovan was gone. He looked around the room and saw a bare back and hollow hole. Grimmjow was changing his shirt across the room, and even from this distance, Ichigo could see dark bruises and forming scars. Getting the shirt down over his head seemed to cause him pain, but he shrugged into it and flexed the fingers of his broken hand after. He was hurting, but he was in survival mode. Ichigo knew he should be too, but he couldn't seem to get his head to straighten itself out.

He shut his eyes again for a few moments, mostly so Grimmjow wouldn't know he'd been seen. He heard Grimmjow put on boots and then those boots clomped their way over the room to him.

"Yo, Kurosaki."

Ichigo opened his eyes. Grimmjow stared down at him a moment then held up his hand. He folded it into a fist, save the middle one, and smiled.

"How many fingers?"

"Fuck you."

"I guess that's a pass." But he sat on the side of the bed and pushed Ichigo back down when he tried to sit. He was squinting, looking in Ichigo's eyes.

"What?"

"I don't think your pupils are supposed to look like that. What's that mean?"

"I don't know."

"Your spiritual pressure better kick in and straighten you out when we cross over."

"My head did get better last time. It just took a while because…"

"What?"

Ichigo looked away. "Well, it wasn't the only thing messing me up."

Grimmjow was quiet a moment before the asshole in him kicked in. "Aww, I'm touched. Well, I'm alive, so buck up and get the fuck better. We don't know when this is going to happen—when the supply truck comes to any of the three camps, we make our move."

"Tell me the details."

"Okay. You and I stay here with the hollows. Ihara thinks we should still have some guards in place, in case it's an inspection and not a supply run that shows up. I don't really think that would play out—these hollows aren't smart enough to pretend they're prisoners. They'll likely kill whoever comes regardless….anyway, we just have to hope that particular scenario doesn't arise. Donovan will go back to the middle camp with the sick people. I guess we're going to leave them out of this, but we don't want to leave them alone either. He's going to miss the big show, but he'll be keeping an eye on the other humans."

Ichigo knew Grimmjow added this last part for his benefit. He must have hoped that if Donovan wasn't one of the ones in the Trojan horse he'd be more willing to go with the plan.

"Ihara thinks that the men from our original camp are strongest. He wants them in the truck, including our original assault team, minus you me and Donovan. He said he had some others in mind too. No hollows though. They can't handle guns, so they'll sweep in after the party has started. I'll lead them. You will stick to my side."

"I don't like it."

"I don't give a shit. What are you going to do anyway, when you're head's all fucked up? Don't be an idiot."

"So are Ihara and Ogawa already gone?"

"Soon. We're going to have a final sit down then everyone's heading out to where they need to go."

"But if they leave in trucks, we'll never get there on foot on time."

"Kid, this is a desert, and we're hollows. The others will drive slow. Trust me, with the blood these hollows are looking to spill—we'll get there."

"I guess."

"You should stay here." Grimmjow got up. "Sleep while you can."

"No, I want to go to the meeting."

He sat. Grimmjow didn't try to stop him. When Ichigo changed they made their way out into the yard. Grimmjow was greeted by Tee and a cohort.

"Master Jaggerjaques, everyone is ready."

 _Everyone_ included several of the more humanoid hollows and the humans they'd captured a day earlier. They rehashed the plans, tweaked some weaker parts here and there and then shook hands. But at the end, before they could all part, Grimmjow shot Ichigo a glance and then held up a hand, indicating everyone stay where they were.

"There's one more thing."

"What?" Ihara asked.

"It's about Yoshida."

Ichigo eyed him. What was he going to say?

"His name is actually Ichigo Kurosaki. He's that famous kid soul reaper who's the only one with a shot at killing the Vandenreich King."

Ichigo's jaw dropped. He stared at Grimmjow, incredulous, angry, and scared. Why was he blowing this secret after everything? No one else was speaking either. The human resistors only knew so much about the soul reapers, but they did know of Ichigo, at least by rumour and legend.

"Why are you saying this?" Ihara asked.

"Because it's true. And if you know anything, you know he _has_ to survive this assault. He can't be taken down before he gets a chance to regain his powers. Once on the other side, he'll become a soul reaper again."

"You could just be saying that, to make sure he stays alive," Ogawa said.

"No," Ihara interrupted, moving over to Ichigo who was trapped in a stunned silence. Donovan was ogling at him, finally putting the pieces together. But Ihara filled his vision and the old soldier took his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "It's true, isn't it son?"

"I don't want anyone to die for me," Ichigo responded.

"See. This is why I told you," Grimmjow continued. "He doesn't understand it, because he's never been trained as a soldier. But some of you have. You know the end game is bigger than this assault. We can't lose our trump card before we get a chance to lay down the bet."

Ihara slowly released Ichigo. "No, we can't. He should stay here, away from it all."

"No," Grimmjow said. "What if the window of opportunity to get back over is short? We all have to be ready to cross over as soon as we get the chance."

"And I suppose you and your hollow friends _must survive_ as well," Ogawa challenged.

"Well it wouldn't hurt to have an army of spiritual beings at your back when you land in Hueco Mundo," Grimmjow answered sardonically, "but I'm not asking for you to watch anyone's back but your own and his. Getting out of here will mean shit if we can't get him out alive."

There was silence then, and everyone absorbed what had been said. Ichigo didn't want to look at anyone, still shocked, but somehow, ashamed. Grimmjow was building him up into something he was afraid he'd lost. He wasn't sure he could win, when it came down to it.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up to Donovan who offered a soft smile.

"I'll go too then, protect him."

"No," Ichigo protested.

"I'm too good a shot to leave behind anyway."

Ihara nodded. "I agree. Donovan hang back with the hollows. Watch his back."

Ogawa was the last to consent, but he did so not angrily, but with a half-smile, looking between them. "I sure would like to know how our supposed saviour ended up best friends with a hollow."

"Espada," Grimmjow corrected, reclaiming his title. "The last espada."

"I take it that means something important," Ogawa asked.

"I'm the fucking King of Hueco Mundo," Grimmjow grinned with an arrogance Ichigo hadn't seen in a long time. "Ain't that right boys?"

The hollows in the room gave a cheer. Somehow, the decision to lay down their lives if needed brought levity instead of dread. For a moment, everyone was smiling.

Then the shout came from outside.

A truck was headed their way.

* * *

 ** _A quiet chapter, but things heat up next chapter!_**

 ** _Thanks for reading and reviewing,_**

 ** _Riza._**


	13. Chapter 13

"Just do what the fuck I say!" Grimmjow's voice carried over the yard to the mingling hollows.

At the top of the wall, Ihara watched the approaching truck with binoculars. He'd reported it was armoured and unlike the supply trucks. Who knew what the Vandenreich was sending their way, but in any case, they had to lure them in first, and they wouldn't be able to do that if they saw the hollows roaming free as soon as the gates opened.

"Get in a bunker and stay there until this is sorted," Grimmjow ordered the crowd.

There was great reluctance among them, but Grimmjow was their leader and the only one who'd been able to unite them and cause their current freedom, so they conceded and moved inside different bunkers.

"You too," Grimmjow shouted down to Ichigo and Donovan. "Get in the officer's quarters."

"What about you?" Ichigo called back up. Ogawa glanced back at him too, and his eyes travelled to one of the bunk houses.

"Yeah, I know," Grimmjow resigned. If this was an inspection and he was found in the officer's quarters, their freedom would be exposed.

"And take that off," Ihara indicated his stolen guard's jacket.

"I know." He tore it off and tossed it to Ichigo on his way down from the ramparts. "You two keep out of sight."

"We know," Ichigo assured, but he watched Grimmjow cross the yard into one of the bunk houses with growing unease. He didn't like being separated from him at a time like this.

"Come on." Donovan led them in. They crouched below the window but kept the door open a crack so they could see into the yard. Ichigo watched Ihara give a signal and his men opened the gates. There were just four of them—the only humans who could play the part. Ichigo hoped their small number wouldn't tip off the newcomers.

A heavily armoured vehicle entered the gate. It was clearly a military or police vehicle taken from the world of the living. The men got out and Ihara had the gates shut behind them.

"Where is the Captain, Uchimura?"

"In the can." Ihara replied, "What's going on?" Ichigo could just barely hear them. The men from the truck wore different uniforms from the guards and the supply truck drivers. There was definitely an air of rank and authority about them.

"Then go get him. And get the hollows out in the yard while you're at it."

"Why?"

"Just do it, soldier!"

Ihara glanced at Ogawa but the other just gave a slight nod. They didn't know what was going on. They needed to know more about these men's business before making a move. The best thing to do would be to play along until they left.

"You men, help him," The senior officer ordered the rest of Ihara's men. The four men from the resistance dispersed and opened up the bunkers. Ichigo watched the hollows fill the yard. Most of them looked ready to pounce, and several looked to Grimmjow for guidance. Ichigo watched him exit with the rest, stone faced, but one hand extended slightly, fingers down. He was telling them to stay calm and not act yet.

The senior officer climbed up onto the hood of his vehicle once all the hollows were assembled. He raised his hands for silence.

"I have an announcement." His voice was deep and loud. It boomed over the yard and Ichigo no longer had to strain to listen. "Yesterday, the last hollow in Hueco Mundo was exterminated."

This evoked much muttering, shouting and general outrage. Ichigo kept his eyes ever on Grimmjow who went stiff at the announcement, but still remained calm, listening to what else the man had to say.

"In addition, the stray hollows in this world have also been eradicated and those in the other camps have been amalgamated here. Do you understand what this means?"

They did—of course they did—but no one said anything now.

"It means you are the very last hollows in existence."

"Motherfucker!" One of the hollows broke apart. He ran for the officer. He was shot dead after two feet. The other officers flanked their leader at the base of the truck. Other hollows flexed their hands and claws, ready to rip these men apart. Grimmjow's eyes went to Ihara. He was tense. He knew this was not good.

"What are they going to do?" Donovan whispered behind Ichigo.

"I don't know…"

"I have come to carry out new orders from the Vandenreich." The officer went on, withdrawing something from his breast pocket. At first Ichigo feared it was a gun, but it was simply a small, hand held device. It was too far for Ichigo to see what it was for.

"What orders?" Ogawa asked from where he stood behind the truck, hand hovering at his waist.

"Orders to relieve you of your duties here." He turned back to the crowd. "Orders to ensure this endangered species gets promoted to _extinct._ "

He flipped something on the device in his hand. Grimmjow's eyes went wide and he looked down to his wrist.

No. Ichigo hadn't thought of the device as a transmitter, but in that frozen moment when he saw absolute terror cross the face of the sixth espada, he knew just what those soldiers had come here to do.

"SHOOT HIM!" Grimmjow screamed over the crowd to Ihara and Ogawa who had already drawn their weapons.

But it was too late. Just as Grimmjow began to run toward the enemy, he depressed the button of the transmitter and the entire mass of hollows began to scream.

Fountains of hollow blood filled the air. Ichigo and Donovan threw the door open, witnessing the full pandemonium, the horror of a genocide. Several hollows were already dead. Those still living clutched their wrists where they'd been implanted with the same tracking devices as the other prisoners. Except they weren't just tracking devices—they were fail safes—they were the instruments of mass murder. The explosions they set off hadn't been large, just large enough to sever flesh and muscle and arteries and spill the hollow's life source all over the yard.

They fell within moments. They all fell, a sea of bodies drenched in black blood.

It was one of the worst moments of Ichigo's life, and he knew what he felt was nothing compared to the agony of the sixth espada.

He was the only one still standing. He'd already explained to Ichigo how his tracking device had been smashed when he'd fallen from the wall. That fall had saved his life—his and his only. Now he stood, not the last espada, but the last _hollow_ surrounded by their bodies and covered in their blood. It dripped from his bare, scarred back, hung from his hair, painted his face.

He screamed. And he ran.

In the chaos, Ihara and Ogawa had already shot the officer and his men dead. They lay on and against their vehicle, obviously lifeless. But Grimmjow ran forward as if he meant to kill.

It took Ichigo too long to realize whom he intended to kill.

Ihara hit the ground hard. His gun was knocked free and his hands came up against Grimmjow's chest as the espada began to throttle him.

"YOU LET THEM DIE!" he screamed and drew a hand back to slam into Ihara's face. "I TOLD YOU TO SHOOT! WHY DIDN'T YOU SHOOT?"

His fist slammed down again. Ichigo was already running but it was too late. Ogawa had a riffle. He slammed it into Grimmjow's back and knocked him off of Ihara.

Grimmjow rolled back to his hands and knees. He was panting. He was hurt. Ogawa waited while the men helped Ihara. He watched the espada stare onto the field of bodies. Ichigo was running his way, but he didn't seem to see him. He didn't seem to see anything but the death of his race. He bowed his head and a noise escaped him. It was one of despair. His fingers dug into the churned up dirt of the yard, his body went rigid and he screamed into the earth.

Ichigo stopped before him. Slowly he dropped to his knees as well and lay a hand against the espada's shoulder.

Grimmjow's scream died. He gasped for breath, head still bowed. Ichigo couldn't see his face past his shoulder, his hair and the blood.

"Grimmjow."

"Get away from me."

"Grimmjow—"

"GET AWAY!" He sat suddenly and shoved Ichigo back. Donovan had followed him and now crouched and took his shoulder.

"Ichigo he's not right," Donovan warned and it was true. Now that Ichigo could see Grimmjow's face he could see the true extent of his shock and rage. For a moment longer he knelt, chest heaving, blue eyes still fixed on the bodies.

Then he turned to Ogawa.

He lunged. The butt of the riffle struck him square in the forehead. The last hollow fell limp in the yard.

* * *

 ** _Ah...so dark. I will note that I never really factored Nel into this story, and only found myself thinking, "oh wait...what about Nel" when I was finished this chapter. So I don't really have an answer except that I don't intend for this to mean she is dead. Just in case you were wondering...I just kind of forgot about her in this story..._**

 ** _Riza_**


	14. Chapter 14

Blue eyes snapped open. Ichigo tried to move closer to the bed but Donovan's arms wrapped around him in a restraining hold.

He could fight it. He could win. But he didn't. He waited and watched as Grimmjow came too and relived the horror of an hour earlier. They'd cleaned him up as best they could, but he was still smeared in hollow blood. His forehead was cut from the riffle but Ogawa had bandaged it. Grimmjow's eyes swept over the six of them, hovering, watching. His wrists snapped in the restraints that kept him tied to the bed.

"You let me go right now."

"You tried to kill us," Ihara rasped. Grimmjow had done him some damage to his throat.

"You could have stopped it!"

"There was no time!" Ogawa interrupted. "We shot but it was too late."

"BULLSHIT! You humans hate hollows! You wanted him to do it!"

"It's pointless," one of the other men commented, "he's lost it."

"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! I haven't lost it. I saw you—all of you! You had a clean shot. You could have stopped it!"

"And I wish to God we had," Ogawa lowered his voice, trying to reach Grimmjow. "Grimmjow we are allies. _They_ were allies—an army. If nothing else, you have to know we wouldn't throw that away."

"Fuck you and all."

Grimmjow turned away from them.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo pleaded. "They're our allies. They're on our side."

"No one's on our side, Kurosaki. We're on our fucking own. We always have been."

"That's not true," Ichigo slowly pulled away from Donovan who let him. He knelt at the side of the bed. "You and I could never have gotten this far without them."

"No, they couldn't have gotten this far without us." He turned back to stare Ichigo straight on. There was tremendous pain behind the anger in blue eyes. Ichigo shook his head, at a loss.

"Grimmjow you know they didn't let this happen. I know you know the truth. It's just…"

"What?"

"Grimmjow what you lost today—"

"Shut up." Grimmjow started to turn away again but his eyes caught something over Ichigo's shoulder. The teen turned and looked back as well. "Why is there smoke?" Grimmjow's voice was just a breath. Ichigo stiffened. "Kurosaki, why the fuck is there smoke out there?"

"Because…we're burning the bodies."

But Grimmjow shook his head. "Hollows break apart when they die. They move on, Kurosaki. There are no bodies."

"But there are bodies. It must be this world. They didn't disappear. Grimmjow…I'm so sorry."

He watched the news break over the espada. It was worse than rubbing salt in a wound. It was a cruel, added twist of this existence—hollows who should return to the cycle were deprived of that right. All those countless devoured souls would never return to existence. Ichigo understood this. Ichigo knew that all those spirits, once hollolw—once human—were now gone forever. It's why he bowed his head. Its why he understood the pain filled breath that escaped Grimmjow followed by renewed attempts to pull free of the bed.

"Jaggerjaques, calm down!" Ogawa ordered, stepping in to restrain the espada before he hurt himself.

"Just let me go," Grimmjow whispered to the old soldier.

"Not until you calm down."

"I'm fucking calm, let me go."

"You're not. You're angry and I can't trust you won't attack us again."

"He won't." Ichigo spoke up. "Ogawa, he won't, I swear."

"Son he's in shock. You don't know what he'll do any more than I. Donovan." Ichigo was pulled away from Grimmjow again. Ogawa withdrew from Grimmjow and went over to the officer's drawer. He pulled out a bottle that had been stashed in there.

"What is that?" Ichigo asked when he saw him approaching Grimmjow as he unscrewed the cap.

"One of the officers must have had bad nerves." Was all he said as he withdrew a pill. He leaned over Grimmjow and held it out. "We haven't much time before we make a move. I want you to take this and try to sleep until we're ready. If you do that, I'll undo these bindings."

"I don't want your fucking drugs."

"You don't know what you want. You're in a state. Let me help."

"You missed your opportunity to help when you didn't shoot that fucker in the head when I told you."

Ogawa sighed.

"Fine." He grabbed Grimmjow around the jaw and shoved the pill into his mouth. Ichigo protested but he succeeded in forcing Grimmjow to swallow it down. Within moments he relaxed in his restraints, not asleep, but distant. Donovan let go of Ichigo and Ogawa began to undo Grimmjow's restraints.

"You're letting him go?" Ihara protested.

"We have to move shortly. He just needs to calm down. We need him, Ihara, to see this through."

"Yeah, he'll fucking murder us once he turns back into one of those freaks on the other side."

"Shut up," Donovan spoke up. "Just leave it, alright?"

The arguing ended there. Ichigo sat next to the espada on the bed and watched him turn his gaze back to the smoke.

"I want to see," he whispered, his voice sounded heavy and tired. The pill had taken full effect. The anger had subsided but not the other emotions boiling in him.

"No you don't."

"Are you happy?"

"What?"

"They're all dead. They were your enemy. Now you won't have to kill them anymore."

"No Grimmjow, I'm not happy. Hollows were our allies."

"Kurosaki…what does this mean? How can there be no hollows?"

Ichigo know exactly what he was asking. Evil or not, hollows were part of the balance. He didn't know what their eradication meant for the rest of existence.

"I don't know Grimmjow. Maybe they were lying. Maybe there are still hollows in hiding somewhere. Just try to sleep, okay?"

"Could you sleep, if every last human had just been slaughtered right in front of you?"

Ichigo didn't answer but he did look to the others, and they understood. They left the room to give Grimmjow his privacy.

"You do know we have to trust them, right?" Ichigo asked when they were alone.

"I know."

"Grimmjow what happened today—"

"I want to shower."

Ichigo sighed, but nodded. He helped Grimmjow sit up. When he was standing, he staggered over to the window. Ichigo didn't bother telling him not to look. He stared for several moments on the mass of burning of bodies, then he sank away and didn't argue when Ichigo braced his shoulder and led him to the showers.

When he was alone, Ichigo sank back on the bed. His head still throbbed from the unending pain of the concussion, but after what he'd seen today, he felt awake for the first time in a long time. The horror of that scene played over and over in his mind and he wished for a second he could slip away, back into his confused, distant state. He didn't want to see Grimmjow's face in that moment, he didn't want to hear his breaking voice, or face the fact that Grimmjow was not indestructible, as he had seemed to be, all this time. He could not carry them through alone. Ichigo had to step up, had to do whatever it took to get them out of this place.

When the shower turned off and Grimmjow re-emerged, their eyes met, and Ichigo knew where they stood. Grimmjow came and sat next to Ichigo. They both stared at the floor.

"You have to make it all worth it," Grimmjow said. "When we get out of this place, you have to kill Bach."

"I know. I will."

"If you don't, I won't forgive you."

"Okay."

"Kurosaki," he took a breath and Ichigo turned to him now. He saw his hands shaking in his lap, his eyes downcast and missing their confidence. "I failed. I told those bastard souls out there that I was going to take them home."

"It's not your fault."

"That's not the point. I failed in that. And now I might fail again."

"Why?"

"Because those men who came weren't supply truck drivers. They were higher-ups and we can't waste another second before someone realizes they're missing. We have their vehicle and their clothes. We have to go now. And that means you and me in the fucking Trojan Horse. That means a shootout we've got no hope in hell of winning. It means suicide kid, but it means we have to do it anyway or give up completely."

"Oh." Ichigo turned away again and looked to the floor. "Then I guess now is the time to say thanks, for everything."

"Don't. Just survive, Kurosaki. Let them die for you, if you have to. Kill anyone you have to. Do whatever it takes to end that fucking quincy bastard."

Ichigo absorbed the words slowly, and for the first time, he heard them and he understood. He knew now what Grimmjow had always meant. He knew now it wasn't coldness or cruelty that let him suggest they sacrifice friends. He knew it was just war, and what it meant to win.

He nodded.

"Good. Then I'm alright now. Let's go join the others, and end this."

"Okay."

They rose together, and stepped out into the yard, knowing full well they'd likely both be dead before the day's end.

* * *

 ** _My only excuse for the long wait and the shortness of this chapter is that thing called "real life." Tends to get in the way sometimes. Sorry for the delay, hopefully back on track next week._**

 ** _Thanks so much for your feedback on the last chapter,_**

 ** _Riza._**


	15. Chapter 15

Well, maybe we won't all die after all," Ogawa grinned around the cigarette he'd pulled out of the pocket of his new uniform off one of the dead guards. He'd found something under the front seat of the truck and now pulled it out.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked, seeing a heavy case in his arms.

"Our salvation." He clicked the case open and revealed two rows of potato-sized, round objects.

"Grenades!" Donovan exclaimed. There were eight in total.

"This was their back-up plan, then?" Ichigo suggested.

"Most like, in case the transmitter didn't work maybe."

"Well that will improve our odds," Ihara admitted.

"We're still only seven guys," Shen reminded them. They had planned on having a whole army of hollows at their backs. Most likely Shen and Raito—young men recruited by Ogawa back at their original camp— were now regretting getting involved in their plans at all.

"We need to re-strategize," Ichigo said.

"We'll have to discuss it on the way." The longer they waited, the more chance their delayed return to Head Quarters would become suspicious. "Everyone get ready."

They broke apart. Ichigo joined Donovan at rear of the truck where they'd pooled all the weapons they could find. They began packing as many of these weapons as possible into their belts, boots and pockets.

"Is Grimmjow gonna be okay?" Donovan asked. He looked to Grimmjow where he paced at the top of the wall, a cigarette burning between his fingers.

"Yeah…I mean eventually, but it doesn't matter. He'll fight with everything he has, just like always."

"Okay. And you?"

"Same."

"Good." Donovan smiled weakly. He must have been nervous, but he was doing a good job of not showing it. It was almost as if he was more worried about the rest of them, than himself. In fact, when Ichigo caught the American's gaze roaming over Ogawa, Ihara, Shen and Raito, he knew that was exactly the case: Donovan was wondering which ones would be gone tomorrow.

"Donovan, I wish we'd met in the real world," Ichigo said, zipping up his well-stocked coat. "We would have been friends."

"When this is over, you should come to America," he responded, and they both ignored the fact it would never happen.

"Deal," Ichigo said. "I always wanted to go overseas."

"You boys ready?" Ogawa asked. He, Ihara, Shen and Raito were all dressed in the uniforms of the soldiers who'd arrived in the truck. Donovan, Ichigo and Grimmjow were all too obvious because of their skin and hair colour and Grimmjow's hollow mask so they would just dress as they were and stay in back.

"Who's driving?" Ichigo asked.

"Shen and I will take the front," Ogawa said. "Ihara's voice is messed up so we don't want him giving things away if he has to talk to someone at the gate."

"Okay."

"That means he'll be in back with you guys. Make sure Grimmjow doesn't kill him on the way there."

"He won't. He knows what has to be done."

"Fine. Then we're all set. Let's load up."

They piled in. Ichigo went over to the wall and called up to Grimmjow. He flicked his cigarette out into the desert and joined him at the bottom of the stairs.

"I wish I had a fuckin' sword," he muttered, not too pleased to have a gun as his main weapon, though like the others, he'd stocked up on whatever could be found.

"I wish we had body armour or something."

"Just stay behind the others and you might die last," Grimmjow said morbidly and pulled himself up into the back of the truck.

Ichigo didn't say anything more. They settled in the back, closest to the cab. The others had left them the safest seats, because they too knew Ichigo needed to be saved if possible. Ihara was closest to the opening—far from where Grimmjow was sitting. They said nothing to one another—in fact, no one spoke for a long time. Ichigo remembered the brutal drive to the camp in the back of that eighteen wheeler. He wondered how many of those men were now sitting in their camp, no clue what was going on. They hadn't radioed their plan back to either camp. It seemed cruel, to leave all their friends in the dark, but it was too risky to send a signal in case headquarters was already on alert, maybe checking the different radio signals.

If they did all die, their comrades would never know the truth of what they tried to do.

"What is the plan?" Donovan eventually prompted.

"Well the objective hasn't changed," Ihara started. His voice remained raspy. Ichigo wondered if Grimmjow had inflicted permanent damage. "We get to the control room in the command building and open that fucking portal. The obstacles remain the same: first getting through the gate without them noticing we're fakes, then once inside, taking out the guards on the towers, and ploughing our way through the other fifteen or so on the ground."

"We can't assume the number of guards will be the same as when we were last there," Grimmjow corrected. He didn't look at Ihara when he spoke. Ichigo didn't know if he still believed Ihara hadn't shot the men on purpose or not, but it seemed he was going to hold a grudge right to the end. "Considering these guys seem to have been some special force, there's no telling what's changed since we left. We have to be prepared for a shit ton more enemies."

"Well, the grenades should help with that," Raito said. Grimmjow looked to Ichigo, not having been present for the reveal nor understanding what a grenade was. He pondered this once he understood the human designed weapon.

"How many do you think one of those could kill?"

"It just depends how close they are to it."

"What about the guard house? There's likely to be some guards resting in there. With a grenade, just one of us could take them out."

"That's true…" Ichigo said, but not liking the idea of splitting up their small group in the heat of that battle.

"We could all take a grenade and hit the biggest group of guards we see and go from there," Raito chimed in, liking the idea.

"We'd get shot down in seconds," Donovan argued. "We have to take out the guards on the tower first."

"And you're the man to do it," Ihara said when Ichigo translated. "Donovan, your objective is the guards on the tower."

"Ogawa says he and I can cover your backs when you get out of the truck," Shen leaned against the mesh wire between the cab and the back. "We'll lay down cover fire while you guys get out and find cover."

"Right, that means we come out shooting. Donovan takes the wall. The rest of us clear the yard and someone goes for the guard house," Ihara summarized.

"I can go for the guard house," Raito offered.

"Someone should also go for Command. And whoever it is cannot use grenades there. We need that control room intact," Ichigo added.

"You and Grimmjow should," Donovan said. "There should only be a few guys and it would be the safest cover for you."

Ichigo didn't like being tasked the safest job, but Grimmjow nodded, accepting the job on behalf of them both.

"You're the worst shots anyway," Donovan consoled Ichigo with a grin.

"Okay then, it's a plan," Ihara settled things. They all sat back, thinking over the strategy. It sounded good in the heat of the moment, but doubts and fears crept in the moment there was silence. Ichigo could see it on all of their faces, but what else could they do? It was the best plan he could think of, even though he saw many ways in which they might all be killed.

"So what happens, if we manage to pull this off?" Raito asked after a while.

"Ain't it obvious? We go through the portal," Grimmjow said definitively.

"All of us?" Ihara questioned.

"No," Ichigo said at once. "We're going to Hueco Mundo, it's no place for humans. Besides, there are still prisoners being kept in camps here. If we really manage to pull this off, you should free them."

"And then we'll return home," Raito added, "And keep fighting."

They would probably die resisting in the World of the Living as well, but Ichigo didn't say this, because he knew there was no point in worrying about something that would probably never happen. In fact, no matter what the outcome of this next battle, he and Grimmjow would be saying goodbye to their fellow rebels by the day's end.

"Ichigo, do you think you can beat this guy?" Donovan quietly asked him in English.

"I have to."

"But you didn't before."

"I know. But I won't fail this time. I promise, Donovan."

"Okay," he put a hand on his shoulder. "I wish I could help you."

"You are helping. Everyone's helped so much already. I won't let a single sacrifice be in vain."

Donovan nodded. Ihara pulled back the canvass curtain to the outside, and all they saw behind them was desert. In the far distance they say a large shape. It must have been one of the other camps.

"I wonder what it was like for them," Raito commented.

"We'll find out when we free them." Ihara shut the curtain again. He looked them all over and then stuck out his hand to Raito. "It's been pleasure." They shook hands. He then extended it to Donovan and Ichigo in turn. It was a type of good-bye and they all knew it, but they exchanged the pleasantry. At the end, Ihara reached to Grimmjow. Grimmjow stared at his hand but did not take it.

"It hasn't been a fuckin' pleasure. It's been fuckin' Hell."

"You're right. And I plan to give them Hell for doing this to us."

Grimmjow glared at him a moment longer before waving his hand away. "I'll shake your hand if you survive and kill as many fucks as you can."

Ihara nodded. "It's a deal."

It wasn't an apology and it wasn't exactly making peace, but still the interaction told Ichigo Grimmjow didn't really believe Ihara had let the hollows die. That was good, since they'd shortly be depending on one another for survival.

It only took another fifteen minutes or so for Shen to knock on the grill and warn them they were close. He offered them a good luck and closed off the grill so they couldn't be seen. There was nothing to do then but wait.

They were silent. The truck came to a stop. No one breathed. They heard no signs of guards inspecting the vehicle from ground level. Why would they? Who would ever suspect what they'd done, or who was really inside?

They heard the rumble of heavy doors rolling back. The gate was opening.

They were in.

They rolled forward slowly, the gate thundered shut behind the vehicle. Ogawa hadn't given the game away yet. This moment was crucial: in seconds it was up to him to survey the yard, see the threats and take them head-long into hell.

They all had their guns in hand. They had distributed them accordingly: Donovan had a riffle with the longest range of their assorted weapons, Ihara had an automatic but which would use up quickly so he also had a second rifle. Raito had the last rifle and hand gun and Grimmjow and Ichigo each had a hand gun like Ogawa and Shen who of course would have no reason to be carrying riffles in the cab. Lastly, they each had a grenade. Raito had two as he'd be aiming for the guard house on his own and Ogawa had two since he'd have the first eyes on the camp and could possibly pick out good places to attack while taking them in.

They heard a shout. Someone must have started to notice things were off. Suspicion was arising. Ihara aimed for the canvas curtain, just waiting for it to start.

There was more shouting. Instead of parking, the vehicle was accelerating. Shit. They'd been found out before they could pile out.

"What do we do?" Ichigo hissed but Grimmjow threw and arm over his head and pulled it down.

They were none too fast in ducking beneath the canvas covering that stretched over the wire frame of the back of the truck. It definitely wasn't bullet proof and seconds after Grimmjow pulled him down the black canvas was peppered with bullets. Sunlight poked through the tears. Ichigo hit the floor when Grimmjow pulled him all the way down, keeping his head covered. Ichigo could see nothing but the back wall, he had no idea if all the others had ducked in time.

The truck kept accelerating. More gunfire sprayed into them, but now there was the ping and zing of bullets hitting metal on the outside and the crashing of shattered glass. The front of the truck took the brunt of these strikes. A loud bang told of a tire popping, then another, and finally the truck lurched suddenly to one side, as if Ogawa had pulled hard on the steering wheel. Ichigo and Grimmjow slid from one side of the floor to the other, slamming into Donovan.

Then the whole truck went sideways, them along with it.

 _ **I shamefully looked at the date of my last update before logging on...so very sorry. Like I said last time "real life" has been getting in the way-mostly good things, but things that have taken up much of my writing and editing time. I also re-wrote this and the next few chapters at least three times before committing to a course of events for the final chapters (yes, not too many chapters left on this one). I'm sorry again for the delay and I will really try to post sooner next time. Thanks for your comments and your patience.**_

 _ **Thanks everyone,**_

 _ **Riza.**_

 _ ***Enjali, they deactivated the devices in their arms in chapter 10 with a homemade electromagnet.**_


	16. Chapter 16

Grimmjow puked on Ichigo's leg.

Ichigo felt the hot liquid first, while blinking back dizziness and collecting himself. He'd lost track of things for a few seconds. Gunfire continued beyond the truck. The canvas curtain was fully open, flopped to one side and Ichigo realized the truck was on its side. His shoulder had struck hard against one bench. He'd hit both benches and the floor several times before stopping. They must have rolled completely over before coming to a stop. His nose was bleeding and his lip throbbed. He felt something rolling under his tongue and spit out a tooth.

Grimmojw was kneeling, catching his breath after vomiting. He wiped his mouth and felt out for something. He grasped his gun and then caught the bench and tried to stand.

Bullets spattered over the ground beyond the truck. Ihara and Raito weren't in the truck anymore and Donvan was already crouched at the entrance, aiming at the walls. His hair was a mess of blood. He must have cut his scalp, but his arms were steady. He was aiming.

The shot went off.

"Got the first one," Donovan announced and Ichigo realized that while he was sitting here the others were doing what they'd come here to do.

"Kurosaki," Grimmjow was still bracing himself, looking like he might puke again, but he had a hand out to him, waiting for him to get up. "We go for the Control room, stick to the plan," he said.

"I know." Ichigo got up. It was hard to manoeuver over the bent metal braces of the shell of the truck. They got to Donovan and assessed the yard.

Ihara had taken shelter behind a second parked vehicle. He was shooting back toward the gate where they'd come through. A body lay at the foot of the high wall and Ichigo guessed it was the one Donvan had taken out. Another corpse lay in the dirt just in front of them—a soldier struck by their rolling vehicle.

"I'll tell you when to go," Donovan said.

"Okay." Grimmjow was in front. Ichigo wasn't even sure where Command was from here. He knew it was the place where they'd been screened before their departure but his brain was so jumbled he couldn't orient himself yet. Grimmjow looked like he knew what he was doing.

"One," Donovan was steadying himself, taking aim again, "Two," He sucked in his breath, "three."

Donovan shot. Grimmjow bolted into the bright light of the setting sun. It was at just the right angle to strike Ichigo right in the eyes. He put a hand against Grimmjow's shoulder so as not to lose him, but turned in order to scan the yard for threats.

He saw at once the open place where they'd lived for three weeks, mashed together like human sardines. It was nearly empty now, less than fifty humans gathered at one end, far away. There was a pair of guards on them, holding them back during the attack. Other than that, there was just empty yard. This meant the guards were concentrated to the buildings: one ahead of them, where they ran, and one behind, the guard house where Raito was meant to go, except Ichigo had seen no sign of him and knew nothing of his fate.

He did however, see the fate of Ogawa and Shen.

"No…" Grimmjow had run past without looking. Perhaps he'd already known, but looking back, Ichigo saw the shattered windshield, the blood splatter all over the back of the cab, and the two limp forms hanging sideways in their seatbelts.

Grimmjow came to an abrupt halt and fired. Ichigo came in line with him and did the same before even really looking at what the threat was.

There was a soldier already dead. It seemed Shen or Ogawa had gotten some shots off even while driving and managed to down this soldier. The trucks had crashed about fifty meters from the Command building but between them were half a dozen soldiers and no cover but the truck they'd just left.

"Get back!" Grimmjow ordered, firing frantically at the group of soldiers. Ichigo did, starting to run back to the truck when he realized Grimmjow was not coming with him. He intended to give him cover fire until he was safe.

 _Grenade_. Ichigo pulled it from his belt and yanked the pin out with his teeth like he'd seen in bad war movies. He held the trigger tight while firing with his gun. Once he let go, he had eight seconds before the explosion.

He threw the grenade.

"GRIMMJOW!"

The espada hit dirt just like the soldiers did. Ichigo's aim hadn't been very good. The grenade landed behind them, closer to Command than he would have liked and when it blew, they were already flat in the dirt. Only one man seemed caught in it, and he wasn't killed. He just cried out and grabbed his leg.

Perhaps he'd over-shot it for fear of hitting Grimmjow, or perhaps there was a reason soccer was his sport of choice, but if nothing else, the grenade gave them the distraction enough for Grimmjow to get back to his feet and join him in the shelter of their ruined truck. They put their backs against the roof of the cab. The truck was at enough of angle to give the shelter from the soldiers. Behind them they continued to hear Donovan's steady shots.

"Shit!" Grimmjow panted. They hadn't accomplished anything, they'd just ended up sheltering in a different part of the truck. "Get ready," Grimmjow removed his own grenade but handed it back to Ichigo, "make this one fucking count."

He gave no more warning before lurching out from behind the cover of the truck and shooting wildly with his hand gun.

A body hit the ground right before Ichigo. Grimmjow must have stepped out right in front of the soldier, surprising them both. Ichigo stepped over it, preparing to launch his grenade, but realized the soldiers had closed too much distance.

"Shit!" Grimmjwo staggered back into him. He didn't drop his weapon or stop firing but he grimaced and his left arm dropped to his side.

"Fuck, get back!" Ichigo yanked on his coat and dragged him back against the truck. But the soldiers were on them now. Ichigo brought his gun up just in time to meet the first one who came around the hood.

Ichigo shot without even thinking. The young soldier's head snapped back. He crumpled in a heap before them eyes wide and face distorted by the bullet in his forehead.

"Hold!" A soldier cried out. They were hesitating. They couldn't see Ichigo and Grimmjow until they rounded the truck and then it was too late. But it would only take seconds to come up with a new strategy or find explosives of their own.

"Warn Donovan and make for the second truck," Ichigo whispered to Grimmjow and pulled the pin on the second grenade. At their back, three more grenades were in the cab of the truck with Ogawa and Shen, not to mention a fuel tank now exposed on the underside of the overturned vehicle.

Ichigo could definitely make this grenade count.

Grimmjow seemed to understand Ichigo's plan. He skirted the edge of the truck back to the rear where Donovan continued to shoot.

Ichigo set the grenade down at his feet and let go of the trigger.

 _Eight._

He could hear them spreading out, hushed commands. He saw boots edging closer.

 _Seven._

He ran.

 _Six._

He'd staked three lives on this. If reinforcements had come from the guard house and cut off the open spaced between this vehicle and the one where Ihara was sheltered, they'd be dead. If they could not clear this distance in a matter of seconds, they'd blow up with the soldiers, and the bodies of their two companions still trapped inside the truck.

 _Five._

"Kurosaki!" Grimmjow caught his arm the moment he rounded the corner of the truck. Donovan was in the middle of the open space, giving them cover. Ihara was still crouched where he'd been, though the vehicle he used as a shield now rested on flat tires and had no widows. Blood ran down his face from the spray of glass. He shot toward the guard house where there appeared to be only another two men left standing.

 _Four._

"Donovan!" Grimmjow yelled the moment they passed him. This was his cue to break for cover as well. Ihara sprayed bullets at the enemy in order to keep their fire off his allies. Ichigo, Grimmjow and Donovan didn't stop running until they slammed into the vehicle. Then all four of them duck down and braced their backs against it.

 _Three._

Ichigo stared back at their truck. He saw the men had taken the opposite side, no doubt aiming to come around and catch Ichigo and Grimmjow that way.

 _Two._

He could just see a soldiers standing at the crumpled bumper, gun trained at the rear opening where Ichigo and Grimmjow had been, expecting them to bolt when they realized they were caught.

But it was the soldiers who were caught. It was Ichigo who had trapped them. And they didn't realize it until they rounded the end of the truck and saw the four of them taking shelter.

 _One._

The first explosion sounded just like the other grenade Ichigo had thrown, but this time, it was almost immediately followed by another, then a third, and finally, the gas tank exploded.

The truck twisted up, nearly righting itself, before being lifted entirely off the ground, engulfed in heat and flames. It raised up a foot or so, before collapsing back in on itself, the canvass tarp a flaming blanket wrapped over the carcass of a once powerful beast.

And all around it soldiers burned. They'd been struck by metal. One had been trapped beneath it and was somehow still flailing an arm. Another lay flat out next to it, blood streaking the dry ground all around his head. Others were on fire, but already dead. One was not. His screams of utter agony and disbelief would never be erased from Ichigo's memory. None of it would—this moment, when he'd killed so many in one fell swoop.

The heat was barely tolerable even at their distance. Ichigo felt his skin grow hot. Something ran from his ears. He saw Grimmjow's ears were bleeding too. They'd been nearly close enough to be caught in it. The yard between them and the flaming truck was scattered with debris, the closest piece just inches from Donovan's foot.

"It ain't over!" Ihara's voice sounded muffled after the explosion. He was already leaning around their cover again.

He flinched back seconds later. Ichigo felt the rumble of a new explosion as much as his damaged ears heard it: the sleeping quarters. Raito must have finally gotten there, but by now so many soldiers would have heard the fighting they couldn't count on that having killed too many.

Thinking the same thing, Donovan checked his ammo. It appeared he had only one or two rounds left with the rifle. Then they'd be down to short-range weapons.

"I've still got mine." Donovan offered up his grenade when Ihara sank back next to him to reload.

"Toss it. If nothing else, they'll dive and we take them out when they do."

Donovan nodded. He prepared himself to stand and throw their last grenade. He pulled the pin, gave Ihara a nod and stood.

His head snapped back the moment he was vertical. The shot was just a zip—the sound resonating with Ichigo several seconds after Donovan's body hit the ground.

"DONOVAN!"

Two arms ensnared him, hauling him back against a heaving chest.

"We're dead…" Grimmjow's voice was just in his ear, his breath puffing against Ichigo's cheek. Ichigo stared dead ahead at Donovan's limp form, hand extended over his head, the live grenade still in his grasp.

Running out in front of those gunmen was death. Staying here was death.

"Fuck." Grimmjow's arms tightened around him. He twisted their bodies and next thing Ichigo's face was shoved in the dirt right up against the truck, Grimmjow's weight keeping him down. He realized with dread what Grimmjow was doing.

He was covering his body with his own.

"Grimmjow no!" Ichigo screamed, fighting the restraining hands that clamped over his head, keeping it protected.

The grenade exploded.

* * *

 _ **Many hard decision were made when writing (and rewriting) this chapter...many more hard decisions to come as I polish up the next one too...**_

 _ **Thanks for sticking with it,**_

 _ **Riza.**_


	17. Chapter 17

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo screamed into the ground at the sound of the explosion. Grimmjow's arms were wrapped over his head. His breath came in ragged gasps into his shoulder.

"…Grimmjow?" He should have made noises of pain; his body should have reacted to being struck by shrapnel. He should be dead. But nothing had happened.

" _Grimmjow_ ," Ichigo urged. The espada slowly relaxed his grip around him.

"Don't move." Grimmjow kept a hand on his head to ensure he stayed down, but sat up to see what had happened. The hand on Ichigo's head tightened a moment before suddenly pulling away.

"Dammit."

"What is it?" Ichigo rolled over now too. Grimmjow was staying low, under the cover of the truck, and blocking his view, but he could still see Donovan. His hand was still intact when it should have been blown off by the grenade. Grimmjow was moving forward, but not toward him.

"You fuck," the espada swore kneeling and stripping his coat. Ichigo sat now too, and realized there was another body in the dirt.

Ichigo crawled forward as well. For a moment, his eyes stuck on Donovan. His extended arm and part of his side were now torn up with burning shrapnel. As Ichigo neared him, he saw where the bullet had struck, right through his lower jaw. He came to a shaking stop next to him and realized with a mix of relief and dread that he was still alive.

His face was shattered. There was so much blood around his mouth, so many teeth gone and his lip and cheek torn. It was gruesome. He was breathing through blood. He must have been semi-conscious because his breaths were rapid and shallow as if he registered the pain, but he didn't react to Ichigo's arrival. His eyes were glassy and vacant.

"Fuck…" He took off his coat as well and packed it around Donovan's head. Then, with hands that would not stop shaking, he very carefully titled his head so the blood could drain out rather than pool in his throat. Donovan shuddered but made no noise. Ichigo scanned over the shrapnel seared into Donovan's flesh. He couldn't do anything about that at the moment.

Then he turned and finally saw what Grimmjow had: the disfigured form of Ihara.

"He fucking threw the grenade…" Grimmjow grumbled, draping his coat over the multitude of wounds spattering Ihara's shuddering body. He had succeeded in throwing it, but that wasn't the only reason Grimmjow hadn't been hit. Obviously Ihara's body had taken the brunt of shrapnel that had come back their way. Like Donovan, he was not fully conscious.

"They're dying," Ichigo breathed, knowing neither would last long.

"We gotta kill those bastards."

At any second those soldiers could decide to charge them, come around the front of that truck and slaughter them.

"We have no more explosives."

"I know." Grimmjow pulled a knife from his belt. "I think we need to get them close."

"They might think we were killed in that explosion."

Grimmjow nodded. If that was the case they might only have seconds before the soldiers were on them.

They retreated closer to their cover, putting their backs against the side of the truck again, with no choice but to leave both Ihara and Donovan suffering alone and exposed.

Ichigo and Grimmjow were both breathing hard. For once, Grimmjow had lost that impossible calm. He was sweating, panting and bleeding badly from his left arm where he'd been shot earlier. He was still moving it, but clutched his knife in the other hand. It was shaking where it was poised to strike.

Ichigo listened for the sound of boots. He couldn't calm his breathing either. It was enough to mask the sound of the enemy approaching. He'd just have to react the moment he saw them. He still had a gun and it was aimed at the front of the truck where the soldiers would appear.

He saw the end of a rifle first. In a second, he saw hands and arms and head bent low, not looking their way but aimed at Donovan and Ihara.

Ichigo fired. He missed.

The bullet hit the edge of the truck instead and ricocheted harmlessly away. In missing, he gave away their position, and he did not get the opportunity to fire a second shot because the soldier he'd failed to kill had already turned his way.

 _His_ shot did not miss.

Ichigo's back hit dirt. His breaths dragged in and out. He didn't feel it. He knew it was his head from the way his neck snapped, the way he landed. Oh god, he thought, was it like Donovan? Was his face ripped apart, a mutilated mess that could never really be put back together?

"Kurosaki!"

More gunfire. A startled noise and a wet impact, over and over. Gurgling breaths.

"GET THE FUCK UP!"

He felt the heat now, on the right side. It was bone deep, it had cut to his skull he was sure. It had definitely cut through his ear, because when he got control of his hands he raised one up and felt the severed top half still dangling where a piece of cartilage was still attached. His right eye went dark; blood had filled it. The bullet had cut him, just like a sword would have, deep and straight along the side of his head.

It was bad, but he was still alive. He lay another moment, hearing that sick, wet sound continuing and Grimmjow's laboured breaths.

He sat up.

Grimmjow was repeatedly stabbing the man who'd shot Ichigo. His knife dug in and out of the gut of the man still sputtering above him. He was kneeling where he'd been crouched, and the man somehow still stood so the blood the poured out of him now drenched Grimmjow's face, arms and chest.

Finally the soldier collapsed, falling forward into Grimmjow. That was when the second soldier came out from behind his cover.

Ichigo had lost track of his gun. His bloodied fingers grasped the knife in his belt and pulled it free as he watched Grimmjow struggle out from the body while the last soldier turned his gun on him.

Ichigo threw the knife. It spun end over end, with no real aim and not much strength. The blunt end struck harmlessly against the man's rifle and fell to the ground.

It was a lame last attempt at saving their lives. But it was just enough to draw the barrel of the gun away from Grimmjow and give him one last chance to fight.

They both went at the soldier. Grimmjow was closest and lunged on the man, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him down. Ichigo couldn't even stand straight but got up enough to stagger his way over to them and add his body weight to the fray.

The soldier was uninjured. He had them both beat in strength at this point, but not in desperation. It was a wild, undignified, clawing fingers and flailing limbs.

Ichigo and Grimmjow were bitterly fighting for control of the gun. It went off in several short bursts, striking the ground just next to them, spraying them in dirt. Ichigo caught a strike to the head with the side of the weapon. He was already disoriented but the world blurred more. He clutched out at whatever could steady him. His fingers raked over the soldier's face. The man lurched, getting a knee into Grimmjow's side. He heaved, trying to shove them both off and get the gun aimed at one of them. He screamed with effort as more shots went off.

Ichigo's hands found his neck. He could feel his own blood dripping down his jaw, his chin. He saw it splat on the soldier's uniform.

He squeezed. He didn't even look, as he tried to crush the life from this man with his bare hands. His right eye was completely blocked by blood. His left scrunched shut under his effort. He would have been thrown off if Grimmjow hadn't kept the soldier pinned. He was trapped as he was, sprawled over the man's waist, keeping the gun pointed away from them. If he moved or lost his grip on the gun before Ichigo could subdue the man they'd both be dead.

It took so long, for the gagging, sputtering and muscle jerks to begin to fade. It must have been minutes before the man's hands slackened on the weapon and Grimmjow could finally wrench it away.

The moment the soldier's hands were free, fingernails clawed into Ichigo's back. His fingers dug deep, desperate to do anything to make Ichigo stop.

Ichigo opened his eye then. He saw the blood that had filled the man's pupils. He saw the absolute terror in his discoloured face.

"Close your eyes, kid." Grimmjow put the gun against the soldier's skull.

He pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

"Motherfucker," he breathed and tossed the empty weapon, the bullets having been used up in one of those wild sprays.

Ichigo started to let go, but Grimmjow's hands clamped over his own to help him finish the job.

He wanted to tell Grimmjow to stop. He wanted to say they didn't need to kill this one, he was disarmed, he was badly injured. He wasn't a threat anymore.

He _wanted_ to do these things—not to save this man's life—but because he wanted to still be the good guy.

He wanted to be the Ichigo Kurosaki he'd been before he'd been sent to this place—but he wasn't—not anymore.

So with Grimmjow's hands locked in place over his own, he felt straining tendons go slack, the Adam's apple stop convulsing. He saw those blood red eyes roll back and that open, silent scream settle into a permanent place on the dead man's face.

Grimmjow sat back from their handiwork, gasping for breath. Ichigo continued to kneel there, staring down at that visage. His hands had left dark imprints on the man's neck. At his back, dead fingers had fallen from him, but he felt the open wounds clawed into him even through his shirt.

"Kurosaki, leave him," Grimmjow prompted from behind him.

They hadn't needed to kill him. Not this one.

"Kurosaki." Grimmjow pulled on his shoulder. "Your head's bleeding too much."

He wanted to take it back. He should have told Grimmjow to stop—no, _he_ should have stopped.

"Kurosaki!"

Grimmjow forced him around, turning him away from the body and gripping both his shoulders. "You're fucking bleeding way too much." He had a ball of torn cloth in one hand. He pressed it against the wound and steadied Ichigo's head with the other hand. They knelt between bodies in the torn up yard, staring at one another.

Ichigo watched Grimmjow's eyes shift from the wound at his head, down to his face. For a moment, Grimmjow looked away from him, a tired sigh escaping him.

"Don't," he instructed. Ichigo didn't know what he meant. "We did what needed doing."

"But we didn't need to kill him…" Ichigo's words choked off. Suddenly he felt the roll of more than one tear dripping down his face.

"Yes we did. Stop crying."

His argument was useless. Ichigo's breaths came in short and fast. Grimmjow gave up and pulled him forward, into his shoulder, never letting go of the wound on his head.

For a moment, they just stayed that way. Ichigo's tears soaked into Grimmjow's shirt, mixing with dirt and blood. He trembled from shock and blood loss and remorse so great he feared he could never move past it.

"We won, Ichigo. That's all that matters. If you hadn't won, you'd have let them all down."

He nodded into Grimmjow's shoulder. He knew that. His sacrifice was not to be his life, but his soul.

He forced himself to breathe deep. He concentrated on the firing pain in his skull instead of the sickening cold feeling in his gut. After a minute or two he was too lightheaded to think clearly anymore and he started to feel numb.

When Grimmjow felt him calm, he eased him back.

"Can you hold this?" Grimmjow asked indicated the cloth on his wound.

Ichigo tried to raise a hand to his head but his hand somehow missed its target. Grimmjow had to guide his hand to the right spot. He pressed against the cloth on his wound.

"Alright. I'm gonna check Ihara and Donovan. You good?"

Ichigo nodded. With monumental effort, Grimmjow stood.

He took several staggering steps forward.

Then a gunshot went off.

Ichigo watched Grimmjow drop. For a moment he heard nothing but his own heart beat thrumming far too loudly in his own ears and his panicked breath shuddering out of his lungs. He felt every inch of his trembling body grow cold with soul-deep terror until an agonized scream escaped Grimmjow's clenched teeth and he writhed, clutching at his collar and Ichigo knew he was still alive.

Past Grimmjow two soldiers were running their way. Two soldiers they'd forgotten to count.

 _Count._

Hadn't that been what Grimmjow had told him to do so long ago? Hadn't he said the only way to win was to count?

The two soldiers slowed as they got closer, briefly scanning Donovan and Ihara's bodies then the bodies of their allies before training their weapons back on Grimmjow and Ichigo.

 _Count._

Ichigo had seen them, at the beginning of the fray, still guarding prisoners at the far end of the camp. This whole time they'd been there, forgotten, out of sight, unaccounted for.

 _Count._

Bullets.

Bodies.

Sins and souls.

All that counting for nothing. The soldiers took aim.

Ichigo scrunched his eyes shut without even meaning to. Some useless instinct made him throw his hands before his face and pathetically wait for the bullet that would end him.

Long seconds ticked by. Ichigo heard a shout, then another, then gunshots.

He flinched, thinking the soldiers had finally done it and ended them, but he felt nothing, and as the shouts and screaming got louder, and more gunfire erupted in erratic bursts, he lowered his arms.

Ichigo stared across the yard, past Grimmjow, to the burnt yard around the exploded truck and charred bodies. He saw the last thing he'd forgotten to count: humanity.

For so long now he'd been humanity's saviour, he'd arrogantly forgotten that long before him, humanity had saved itself.

So he knelt there and he witnessed the raw bravery and strength of mortal man. He saw those who'd been gathered at the far end of the camp, fighting with bare hands against guns—rising up one last time—the most crucial of times—to save them all.

Ichigo didn't watch the brutal end of those two soldiers, or the suffering of those who fell under their spray of bullets. He dropped his eyes, down to the man gagging on pain a few feet away. He crawled his way forward as the fight ensued, until he was at Grimmjow's side. Grimmjow screamed incomprehensible words when Ichigo pressed against hole in his collar bone. After a few moments his eyes rolled back and he was still in the teen's grasp.

Ichigo stared down at him until he was sure his chest was still rising and falling. Then he lifted his eyes to see the bloody, costly victory of man.

The fight was over.

* * *

 _ **I can't tell you how many times I rewrote this. I still don't know if it's quite right but it's the best of all the versions I hammered out. I have struggled with many scenes in many of my works but I think this one takes the cake-namely who to kill or not kill and how to have Ichigo act and react. Anyway, thanks for reading, I haven't quite finished writing this but I think there will be 2 more chapters.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading and reviewing,**_

 _ **Riza.**_


	18. Chapter 18

"ARGH!"

Muscles heaved against the metal dining table. Belts turned into restraints snapped taught against the furious pull and several sets of hands had to assist in keeping the patient flat.

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo strained to be heard over his companion's continued screams as amateur hands tried to pry bullet fragments from his collar bone. "They're trying to help."

The surviving men of this camp had been trying to save the lives of the resistors since the end of the fight. Grimmjow had woken up half way through the procedure to remove the split bullet fragments embedded deep in the bone. Ichigo had never seen Grimmjow in such a state. There was nothing to give him for the pain and on top of it the man trying to help him was untrained and clumsy, causing him more agony than a proper surgeon would have.

Ichigo reached down for Grimmjow's hand. It was strapped down to keep him from moving too much but Ichigo grasped it. He didn't know what else to do. At the next attempt, Grimmjow squeezed his hand back after letting out one of the worst screams yet. It tapered off into a weaker sound of disbelief. His breaths became thick gasps for air. His eyes shut and tears leaked beneath the lids. Ichigo prayed he'd pass out but he came around again when the next piece was finally pried out.

After a torturous hour all the pieces were out, the wound stitched and Grimmjow was finally, mercifully unconscious. Ichigo sat still gripping his hand as the men removed the belts and freed their patient. Someone squeezed Ichigo's shoulder and muttered words of encouragement but there were other patients to be helped and much work to be done so they all left them alone.

The room was silent and full of the stench of blood and alcohol. It was a private room with one window, probably an office or something. There were maps pinned to one wall and filling cabinets rowed another. This table had been dragged in from the dining hall. It was the same style as a picnic table, and Ichigo sat on the bench seat, watching Grimmjow's ragged breaths as he slept.

He slowly pulled his hand from Grimmjow's. He was pretty sure Grimmjow had broken a bone or two in it. He noted the blanket that had been set next to him along with a canteen of water. He'd already had lots to drink after waking up in here and having his head stitched by the same man who'd butchered Grimmjow. Now he attempted to stand and drape the blanket over Grimmjow's naked chest.

He barely got vertical. His whole body shook and his knees nearly gave out but he used the support of the table and got the blanket across the espada. Then he sat back and bunched some of the blanket that was covering Grimmjow's arm into a make-shift pillow.

He lay his head down and within moments fell asleep.

When he woke he was stiff and he knew he'd slept a long time. Someone must have been in because there was now a blanket over his own bare shoulders and some food set next to him on the bench along with some cloth roughly cut into a triangle bandage. He supposed this was for a sling for Grimmjow.

He sat straight and winced as several wounds flared to life. He was covered in bruises and cuts he had no memory of getting in all the fury of battle. He had nearly forgotten they'd been in a car accident before the fight even began. One of his molars was gone because of it and he was pretty sure it accounted for a terrible black bruise across one bicep. He wasn't sure the bone wasn't fractured.

But the wound that hurt the worst was none of these, not even his head which was tightly bound up on top of the stitches and he was now short half an ear. The wounds that hurt worst were the ones that hand been carved into his back by nothing more than fingernails.

He stiffly turned to look over his shoulder and lift the blanket. He could see the depth to the wounds which actually probably should have been stitched as well, but he wouldn't ask. Those wounds would leave deep scars, and he deserved them all.

"Ichigo."

He turned back and saw Grimmjow's eyes open. His face was tight with pain, but otherwise calm. Ichigo guessed he'd been awake for a while.

"Thought you might have kicked it," Grimmjow mumbled. His voice was raspy and low. "Tried to wake you but you were dead to the world."

"Sorry," Ichigo answered, "How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know. I've been in an out. But I gotta piss."

"Oh." Ichigo let his blanket fall to the ground and stood up. His legs screamed, stiff and sore around every joint, as if he'd run a marathon. He steadied himself a moment before looking Grimmjow over and figuring out how to get him up.

Grimmjow let out a painful hiss as he looped his good arm around Ichigo's neck and let himself be pulled up so he was sitting. Ichigo helped him swing his legs over the side of the table so he could rest them on the bench. They were very careful not to move his arm too much. Besides having a shattered collarbone he'd been shot through the bicep on that side as well.

"Take it easy," Ichigo warned when a sweat broke out on Grimmjow's forehead and he let out a thick breath. He had his arm in his lap trying not to move it but it was clear the pain was intense. "We'll get it in a sling."

Ichigo folded the bandage as he'd learned to do many years ago in first aid. He got Grimmjow's arm up tight across his chest, and bandaged it so it wouldn't move around easily. It hurt getting it there but once it was stabilized some relief washed through Grimmjow. After that he took many swigs of water as if it was vodka and waited for Ichigo to help him stand.

With a massive groan, Grimmjow got both feet planted on the floor and stood with his arm over Ichigo's shoulders. Ichigo could feel his muscles shaking as his body probably went through all the same adjustments as Ichigo's.

"Everything hurts, doesn't it?" Ichigo said after silence lasted too long.

"Like a bitch," Grimmjow muttered but he was steady so together they hobbled their way to the door.

Ichigo hadn't really given much thought to the fact they were in the Command building—not until they stepped out of that small office did he realize they'd finally reached the place they'd been aiming to get at the beginning of all of this.

It was bigger than he'd thought. From the yard he'd only seen the front, and the room where they'd been screened. Now though, he saw a busy facility where the freed prisoners were moving from room to room with medical supplies, food and water. For a moment they just stood in the hallway, watching the movement. Most people seemed to be streaming in and out of a set of double doors not far down.

"What's in there?"

"Not a fucking bathroom," Grimmjow snapped and Ichigo turned his attention back to their original goal.

Grimmjow insisted he was fine on his own in the single bathroom they found just two doors down. Ichigo waited outside the door and watched the traffic in and out of the double doors. Men kept coming and going with basins of water, or pints of alcohol or wads of bloodied cloths. There was little guesswork to be done to determine that most of those who'd been struck by the soldiers' bullets in that final fight were being tended to in that room.

"Yo Kurosaki." Grimmjow opened the door. He was still shaky but not so bad he needed Ichigo's support again. "We should wash up."

Ichigo looked past him to the sink, then up to Grimmjow. He was covered in flakes of dried blood and smeared dirt. But Ichigo turned back to the double doors.

"I have to see."

"You can after."

"No. I mean…we haven't even asked about Ihara and Donovan."

"Ichigo." Grimmjow stood his ground. "You ain't gonna like anything you see in there."

Ichigo watched him. He knew what Grimmjow was saying, but putting off the truth would do him no good. He eased away from the wall where he'd been leaning, and headed for the double doors.

The stench was worse than it had been in their private room. The sharp scent of blood was mixed with alcohol and vomit. Windows were cracked open in an attempt to blow away the weight of the scent, but chill air kept them mostly shut. The room was full of patients—men who'd been caught in the bullet spray of those last two soldiers. Some of the injured were on the floor, others on metal tables like the one Grimmjow had been on. This room must have been the dining hall, now acting as a field hospital.

Ichigo moved into the room, past a table, where someone lay, their breaths coming in pants. A companion was at his side, just watching him breathe as if he expected every inhalation to be the last. Ichigo moved past them, to the next. It was an older man. He was on his stomach on the floor and his blood was soaked through the back of his shirt. He didn't look like he was breathing anymore.

Ichigo kept walking. He noticed the dark hand on the next table and moved at once to the inert form of his friend.

"Donovan," he whispered his name. The man on the table didn't respond, but his chest still rose and fell. Ichigo watched him for a long time, and felt like the other man—waiting between each breath, not sure if Donovan would take the next.

Someone had done their best for him. Half his face was lost under bloody gauze and bandages. Ichigo didn't have the stomach right now to look too closely, but he'd already seen in the yard how bad it had been.

The thing was, Donovan very well might live. But he'd be disfigured, most likely unable to speak, maybe not even eat… Ichigo's eyes travelled over down to the other patched wounds. There were some bandages on his chest but when his eyes fell to his left arm, nothing had been done. He looked at the open wounds, the mess of metal that had burned through layers of flesh. Then he saw the belt, just under Donovan's shoulder.

"Oh god." He sank next to Donovan, sitting on the bench seat. Even with his limited knowledge of medicine, he understood the logic: the arm was too damaged. The easiest thing to do with the limited resources in this place would be to cut it off.

"Probably best, if he never wakes up."

Ichigo didn't look back. He was surprised Grimmjow had bothered to follow him in here.

"Probably…" he admitted, stomach turning. "If we get him home, he could get better treatment."

"We've been here a long time, kid, we don't know what's waiting on the other side."

Now Ichigo did turn back to him. Grimmjow was terribly pale, but his eyes clear and serious as he spoke.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean who knows what condition your world's in. We haven't even heard what's happening in the war yet."

He was right. Just because they'd won here, there was no telling what they'd face once they opened that portal. For all he knew, Donovan would be best staying here. He turned his attention back to the American. If he woke up, he wanted to be here for him, but that could be hours, or days, or never. So he put a hand against Donovan's still one and gave it a squeeze before rising stiffly again.

They left the meal hall. Ichigo paused to take a breath of fresher air once the double doors were closed. In that quiet moment, they heard stunted cried from further down the hall. Someone else was being treated in a private room like they had been.

Ichigo walked that way. He didn't want to see more suffering, but someone had been missing from the wounded in the meal hall. He stopped just outside the door, and peered in on the busy men operating on their wide-awake patient just like they had on Grimmjow.

Someone had forced a rolled cloth between Ihara's teeth—something to keep him from breaking them against one another and to absorb some of his screams. His naked torso was riddled with pieces of metal and now these men were tearing them back out, past the ragged edge of burnt flesh and muscle.

He felt Grimmjow at his back, watching over his shoulder. Ichigo found himself unable to move, just watch the horrific surgery that seemed more like torture as pale limbs strained for all they were worth against restraints and a weakening voice grew hoarse behind a saliva soaked cloth.

Grimmjow moved from behind him. He'd turned away, his shoulders stiff. Ichigo watched him a moment and actually thought he was going to be sick, but then he whirled back and brushed past him, right into the room.

"Grimmjow!"

"Hey, you can't be in here!" The men working said but Grimmjow ignored them. He looked straight down on the man he'd accused of letting his race die. Ichigo had stepped in the room too, not sure what Grimmjow was doing. He could see Ihara's watering eyes staring straight back up at Grimmjow. He'd always been so calm and level headed, but those eyes were pleading now, full of pain and fear.

Grimmjow drew back his fist.

"I owe you this."

He struck Ihara before any of the men working on him could stop him. The nearest one grabbed hold of him and shoved him back from the table. He slammed into a bookshelf with a cry.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

But Ichigo saw that Ihara had gone limp. He was unconscious now, no longer able to suffer the agony of the operation.

It had been a mercy. It had been the best way for Grimmjow to express his thanks at Ihara's sacrifice for them.

Grimmjow was thrown out of the room and the door slammed shut. Ichigo couldn't catch him before his knees gave but he had stumbled into the wall and used it to slow his descent.

He was washed of all colour now. His eyes were shut in pain and sweat dripped from his temples. Ichigo bent down next to him. There was nothing to do but wait for the pain in his collar to pass. After a few minutes Grimmjow put his back to the wall and sank against it completely. Ichigo joined him, sitting on the floor. They didn't speak. Ichigo watched Grimmjow, but he seemed to be catching his breath and recovering. He'd need to lay back down soon though. He still wasn't recovered from the blood loss and neither was Ichigo. Somehow though, he didn't seem to feel the pain much. He didn't seem to feel anything really, but the cold, sick feeling in his gut.

He turned his eyes away from Grimmjow and back down the corridor to their right, which turned left just a few feet from them, to another part of the Head Quarters. At this angle, he could just see around the corner. He saw boots and knees, and a dark head of hair trembling where it was pressed against them. He noted the crisp uniform of the special guards who had come to kill the hollows; whose truck they'd stolen in order to come here.

Ichigo stood up. He nearly fell down because blood rushed behind his eyes and everything turned black a moment. But when that passed he walked over to the hunched form.

"What is it?" Grimmjow asked, still somewhat short of breath. Ichigo heard him grunt as he struggled his way back to his feet.

"Raito," Ichigo said and the figure on the ground almost flinched at the sound of his name. But he slowly drew his head up and Ichigo smiled with relief to see his unmarred face. "I can't believe it, you're alive. I didn't know what happened to you."

Raito stared up at him. His face was streaked wet with tears. None of Ichigo's relief was reflected in those eyes. And when Ichigo glanced back at Grimmjow, his face was stone, his eyes ice cold.

"What?" Ichigo asked. "What is it?"

"Ask him why he ain't hurt, Kurosaki."

"What?"

"Ask him why he doesn't have a scratch on him."

Ichigo's head swivelled between them. He watched Raito's hands tighten in his hair.

"I just couldn't…" the man stammered, voice thick. Ichigo could barely see his face but what he could see was flush and wet with tears. "I did what I said I w-would…I blew it up. I d-did. There must have been three or four of them in there…n-never saw me coming."

"Neither would the ones who nearly fucking killed us," Grimmjow started, taking a step closer now. "While they were busy shooting Donovan, shooting Ichigo in the fucking head, you coulda taken 'em from behind. You coulda ended it before all of that!"

"I know!" Raito shouted, balling up even more. "I KNOW! But I couldn't. It all happened so fast. The shooting never stopped. I just couldn't leave there."

"You hid. You blasted those fucks in their sleep and then you hid in what was left of their sleeping quarters."

Raito nodded into his knees. "I just c-couldn't go back out there…"

"You fucking coward," Grimmjow moved toward him. Ichigo put a hand against his chest.

"Just leave him." He drew his eyes away from the sobbing man. "Grimmjow, just leave him…"

His hand slid away. He walked past Grimmjow without even checking if he had in fact backed off. He went to the bathroom where they'd initially been headed.

There was nothing but one toilet, a sink and a mirror. He went straight to the sink and braced his hands against it. That sick, cold feeling was spreading through his limbs, making his hands shake where they clenched around dirty porcelain. He lifted his eyes from the red-tinted drain to the mirror. A mutilated version of himself stared back: The right side of his face was covered in a crust of dried blood. He'd felt it before, making his skin feel tight but now he saw the edge of the deep wound that poked from beneath bandages and ran the length of his head. His right eye was blood shot from having so much blood run into it. His jaw was bruised, his lips cut and swollen. His bare shoulders and arms were spotted here and there with dark bruises he had no memory of getting. He dropped his eyes and ran the water and began splashing it over his neck and face.

The door pushed in again. Grimmjow silently moved next to him and began the same process of trying to scrub off blood without wetting bandages, tearing stitches or aggravating other wounds. All they had was rough paper towel to use as a washcloth. Ichigo finished by scrubbing his hands and fingers, which had become stained red from his blood and other's. It was under his nails. He kept washing but he couldn't seem to get it all.

Grimmjow finished and waited for Ichigo. Eventually Ichigo stopped trying to clean his hands, when the skin was red from his efforts, and his hands shaking worse than before.

He braced them back against the sink and stared down at the pink beads of water left behind from all their blood. He kept standing there, unmoving, and began to feel every last shaken nerve from the past twenty four hours.

It wasn't sobs that escaped him. Neither was it screams. There wasn't one word for how he unleashed the enormity of his shame, his fear and his grief in that sink. Sparse tears escaped past his shut lids. The breaths that escaped him were strained by the constricting muscles in his chest. Eventually this turned to gasps. His knees failed him. He clutched the sink but lowered himself. He panted there, against wet porcelain, and a few more tears slid out and his breaths became sharp inhalations. He pressed a trembling hand against his mouth to hold it back. He sat at Grimmjow's feet, between sink and toilet in the filthy washroom that had been used to wash countless wounds in that last hours. He bowed his head away from the espada, as his shoulders shook and the storm of emotion dwindled into stifled tears.

"They deserve it."

Ichigo couldn't move just yet, but he heard Grimmjow's words from above him. It took longer than those few minutes for him to understand them. At first, he thought he meant the soldiers they'd killed deserved to die, but later, when his mind was calm, he realized Grimmjow had been validating his grief—he'd been admitting those who had helped them deserved to be mourned.

Ichigo dried his eyes and stood up. They left the washroom, the hall and the building all together. In silent agreement, they both dropped on the front steps of the Command building and breathed deep in the fresher air of the yard.

"Fuck…" Grimmjow sighed and dropped his head into his hand. Ichigo looked out onto the yard. The bodies had been cleared. He wasn't sure where they'd been taken. The charred remains of the truck that had brought them here were just a few hundred meters from where they sat. The cab was barely discernable now, crunched and crushed. Ogawa and Shen were probably still in that wreck—no one would have even known they were in there. There probably wasn't much left of them now. That thought disturbed Ichigo deeply.

He started at the sound of Grimmjow gagging. He parted his knees where he sat and puked on the step. There wasn't much to come up but he gagged again.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked, putting a hand on his back as he shivered.

"I dunno…" Grimmjow panted. Most likely it was just all his body had been through, but the risk of infection after his amateur surgery was also high.

"I'll take you back in."

"No." He shook his head and straightened. He didn't stop shivering but his head swivelled around the yard and he took in everything Ichigo had just observed. "It's a fucking warzone here," he rasped. "What happens when one of the other camps radios? Or even comes back?"  
He was right. It had passed fleetingly through Ichigo's mind before he'd fallen asleep earlier. Before they rested again, they did need to know things were under control.

Ichigo had to hold Grimmjow up this time. His strength was failing him, and frankly, so was Ichigo's. He got them back through long halls to the place that was clearly the central part of HQ. In there they found two of the freed men watching blinking radio equipment and flipping through books of codes and commands. After little convincing, the men let Ichigo take a seat before the main radio. He tuned the channel as Ogawa had shown him and Donovan to do back in the second camp. He went through the list of location codes and recognized their own camp.

He pressed the button and spoke to their camp for the first time since he and Donovan had taken that jeep on a suicide mission in the desert.

"Kitanu," he said after giving the password they'd used to secure the line. "Kitanu, that's you right?"

"…yes," the dojo master responded. "Who is this?"

"It's—" he almost said his name. He had reclaimed it, but it would mean nothing to Kitnanu and the men of his original camp—to those men who'd first fought with him for their freedom, Satoru Yoshida was still alive. "Yoshida."

"Yoshida? But…this line is from Command."

"Yes, it is."

Several moments of silence clicked back to him. When the radio returned, there was no understanding the jubilant cries of Kitanu and the other men in the room with him.

When things calmed, Ichigo explained the situation at length. In that time, Grimmjow passed out where he'd been sitting at a table on the other side of the room. By the time all had been explained, Ichigo felt close to sleeping as well. But plans were made. Three camps remained in control of prisoners and they would have to be over-taken before the game was up.

"There's a man, in the hallway back there," Ichigo said to the men still in the room with him. "He came with us. He knows the way back to our camp. Take him with you. Rendezvous with the men there. They know what to do."

"Uh…yes sir…" they said uncertain of themselves, having gone from rebels to prisoners to rebels again in just hours.

"Hey," one asked. "Is it true? Are you the Kurosaki boy? The soul reaper?"

Ichigo nodded. The man smiled but his companion did not. Ichigo looked to him. He'd probably lost friends or family, all because Ichigo hadn't ended this when he should have. Ichigo looked away. The men left. He tried to keep awake to listen for the radio, but in a few hours the men would be at their camp. Maybe in a day or two, the other camps would be liberated.

And then, it would all be over.

He started to shut his eyes, sag back in the seat, but a blip across the airwaves made him stir. He heard it again, an insistent beep, and realized it was coming from another channel. He flipped switches until that line was open and found the adjoining command codes in the book. He answered the call, and after everything was verified a new voice came through.

"Command HQ for Prison Camp 003. This is a direct communiqué from The World of the Living, from the King Himself."

Ichigo squeezed the button on the mic. "Go ahead."

"The war is over. The Vandenreich have won."

* * *

 _ **Hi all! I am so thankful for you support in this story. I just wanted to let you know that I have not yet written the next chapter (which will probably be the last). I am planning to work on it tonight but usually I have things written well in advance of publication (since I usually write in large chunks at a time). I want to finish this up before Christmas, but I'm not sure if I will or not. I also hope the following statement isn't too much of a spoiler, but if you don't want to read it, I have left a space...please continue reading below if you don't mind knowing where this story is going:**_

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 _ **Okay, so I just wanted to say that this story was never meant to leave the "prison world" in which it was set. I may break this rule in the final chapter in order to give a conclusion for everyone but this means I will not be delving into all the details of Ichigo's actions after this point, in his attempts to bring down the Vandenreich. Instead, I will (mostly) limit myself to the characters I've created in this story. I just wanted to say this for anyone curious, because the ending of this chapter might lead you to believe I am going to continue the story for several more chapters when in fact I think it will just be one more. Hopefully this isn't too confusing!**_

 _ **Thanks!**_

 _ **Riza.**_


	19. Chapter 19

**Two Weeks Later**

"In total we've identified twenty-five low-level soul reapers among those in the camps. Here is the list of names."

Ichigo took the list Kitanu offered him. He scanned quickly through the names, already guessing he wouldn't recognize any of them.

"The men in the last raid—the last ones to come through—they said they overheard guards talking about another camp where most of the higher ranking soul reapers were taken."

Ichigo nodded, having finished the list without seeing a single name he knew. "I'd guessed as much," he said to his old ally. "But having this many soul reapers here will help. Trust them, Kitanu. Once I'm gone, they'll be your best source of information on the spiritual world."

"But won't you want them to go with you?"

Ichigo shook his head. "Our best chance is to slip over undetected, and figure things out from there. Just knowing this place has been fully liberated will be enough. Then, if we find others we need to keep safe, we can send them here. If the Vandenreich ever came to check up on you, then the soul reapers would be here to protect you."

"I guess," the dojo master conceded half-heartedly. They both knew that no matter what their plan of action, their chances of success were slim. "Well the portal will be ready in less than an hour. Prepare yourself."

"I will. Thank you."

"Just one more thing."

"What?"

"Are you sure Jaggerjaques can handle this with one arm?"

"Once we're on the other side, our spiritual pressure will return. His wounds will heal shortly after that."

"If you say so."

They parted ways. Ichigo left the open yard full of recently freed soul reapers and humans from the other camps. The only person Ichigo wished he could see before leaving was Sato, the school teacher, but he remained the main communicator between Head Quarters and their camp.

He left the open yard for Command and the still putrid scented meal hall. He spotted the blue head of hair at once and headed for the far corner where two beds were closely pushed together.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo started as he neared and saw he was playing cards with a heavily bandaged Ihara.

"Shut up," Grimmjow barked, nose to his cards. He'd only learned the game a few days ago but it appeared he was already a match for Ihara who also played using only one hand to hold cards and exchanged them. "I've almost got him."

"Grimmjow, it's time to go."

At this, the espada glanced back at him. He saw he was serious and relented, dropping his cards on the small table next to Ihara's bed. "We'll finish this when I get back."

"You may never come back," Irahara said, looking up from his bed. He still hadn't walked on his own since waking a few days ago and much of his body remained bandaged.

"Fuck that," Grimmjow threw him the finger. "I ain't dying after all that shit."

Ihara offered them a smile, but his eyes drifted to Donovan in the bed next to him and Ichigo stepped that way, placing himself in Donovan's direct line of sight. He did this daily, but it never succeeded in eliciting a response. Beneath those bandages, Donovan's expression always remained blank, and he seemed never to hear what Ichigo said. Ichigo's eyes wandered to Donovan's empty sleeve for a moment, then back to his bandaged face. He dropped his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed, gripping Donovan's remaining hand.

"I'm going to keep my promise, Donovan. I'm going to face him again, and this time, I swear to you I'll win."

Blank eyes gave him no response, but just before he rose, he could have sworn he felt the slightest of squeezes in that hand.

He and Grimmjow left the dining hall, and everyone else behind. They collected their packs that had been ready for days in anticipation of this moment. Then they went to the open place just outside of Command, where they'd first come through months ago.

"Take this," Kitanu pressed a radio into Ichigo's hands. "We're not sure, but we think it's designed to pass a signal back through to this world. If it works, we expect you to keep us updated."

"I will," Ichigo promised. "If we find people who need to be kept safe, we'll send them to you. Make sure to follow all the radio codes. Hopefully the Vandenreich will never catch on to what's happened here."

"Hopefully," Kitanu agreed and clasped his hand. They shook and separated. Grimmjow and Ichigo stood alone in the yard, facing the place where the gateway would form.

"I can't fucking wait to have my powers back," Grimmjow said, rocking on his heels with anticipation.

"It may take some time," Ichigo warned.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We keep our heads down until we're back up to par, then we destroy that son of a bitch."

Ichigo nodded. "Agreed. But don't forget what we discussed: this is it, the last shot. We can't waste it. We're gonna need back-up and that means finding and freeing our allies, building a resistance, making a plan that cannot fail. "

Grimmjow sighed, "I know all that shit, but I'm trying to get psyched up here."

Ichigo half smiled. "Sorry. But like you said, Grimmjow, winning this place was just the first step to winning the war, and look how long that took. This isn't going to be easy."

"You really think I don't know that. Just shut up will ya and let's get this show on the road."

He gave a wave of his hand back to HQ. The signal was understood and in seconds a black, swirling portal opened up before them.

"Just make sure you're ready," Grimmjow warned, looking back at the teen.

"For what?"

"To see you home world in ruins. Whatever the situation, you gotta keep your head."

Ichigo stared at him. His words weren't intended for their cruelty, just their practicality. He nodded.

"Good, then let's go."

"Yeah." He came in line with Grimmjow. They stood shoulder to shoulder, in face of the whirling vortex, until Ichigo gave the final nod and they stepped forward as one, into the waiting darkness of a world under Vandenreich rule.

* * *

 **11 months later—Post-Vandenreich War.**

The black portal shut, and the last captive soul stepped out of the Vandenreich prison world. Those who'd come through were now gathered in the sands of Heuco Mundo, sheltering together against the harsh desert winds.

"Come on, move your asses."

"Grimmjow! These people have been prisoners for months!"

"An' I gotta hold the fuckin' Garganta open. Besides, these ones weren't prisoners, they're from our camp, right?"

Ichigo looked away from the espada back to the mob of people. Too many had already gone through the Garganta, assisted by soul reapers, and he didn't recognize any faces.

"So are these the last ones?" Grimmjow said tiredly, not very interested in the whole process of righting the worlds now that the fighting was done.

"Yeah, but there's still a lot to be done."

"Is there?" Grimmjow cast his eyes around the empty desert around him. "Looks like everything's back to normal to me."

"Don't be an asshole."

"I'm always an asshole."

"I noticed. Come on."

The humans had all gone through, and now so had the soul reapers. They were the only two left in the desert world. Grimmjow looked like he had half a mind to argue, but after another moment he gave a nod that told Ichigo to go through and he felt him follow at his back.

On the other side, they followed the trail of human survivors being ushered from the streets into one of the many facilities established to treat the wounded, house the homeless, and try to reunite refugees with families and homelands.

"Ichigo." He turned at the familiar voice. Rukia smiled up at him, but her face turned serious within seconds and her eyes returned to the clip board in her hands. "We have more mouths than we can feed and half of these refugees aren't even from this part of Japan, or even Japanese at all. It's going to be a nightmare trying to situate them all."

"Relax Rukia. Soon this won't be your problem."

Her eyebrow raised. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean the war's over, I killed Ywach, and now it's the rest of humanity's turn to step up and take care of themselves. The rest of the world suffered much less than Japan. Other countries are already organizing aid campaigns."

"I see," she lowered her clipboard. "Then what would you like us to do?"

"Just keep looking out for those who needs it, okay?" He clapped her on the shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "Everything will sort itself out soon."

"If you say so." She started away but turned back. "Oh, I got what you were looking for." She pulled a note from out of her robes. "It's not far from here. She said she'll meet you there."

"Thanks, Rukia."

She left them. Grimmjow leaned over Ichigo's shoulder to read the note. "Where's that?"

"Just over the river, come on."

They walked the broken streets of Karakura. Tokyo center was even worse, but since Karakura had always been so closely linked with the other worlds, it had been the entry point for most spiritual beings, and thus the setting of many of the initial battles. As the rebellion grew and the war spread, the most populated parts of Japan became the greatest targets, and then, following the Vandenreich's success, many of the world's greatest cities had seen catastrophes enough to subdue any remaining resistors.

Now, he and Grimmjow walked streets they'd skirted in the dark of night, or crawled under, through sewers. They passed buildings in which they'd spent cold, hungry nights, hiding their spiritual pressure from their hunters. They walked along the banks of a river, where both of them had nearly died in their early days after their escape when they'd been caught by some human Vandenreich supporters.

But it was all behind them now. Even though blood and bullet holes still specked the bridge they crossed, there was nothing more to fear. After months of stealthily recruiting resistors—humans and soul reapers alike—their victory had been complete. There was no chance of Ywach returning after Ichigo defeated him, and very little chance the humans and soul reapers hadn't routed out any remaining Vandenreich and supporters.

"Here it is." Ichigo nodded up to what was once an elementary school.

"Didn't we camp out here that time you busted your ankle?"

Ichigo read the characters above and nodded slowly. "Oh yeah, I think it is. We ate those cans of cafeteria pudding for days."

"Ugh…" Grimmjow shivered, "I'd forgotten that part."

They entered through the windowless front door, into a lobby transformed into a triage center. Twenty or so people were on the floor, sitting or lying, bandages and braces around wounds. But none of them were life threatening. This was a treatment center for freed prisoners, who probably all suffered one ailment or another after what they'd been through.

Ichigo looked to his note from Rukia and saw the room number. He hoped the information was good and they wouldn't have to sift through this entire building to find what they were looking for.

"Geeze it stinks," Grimmjow grumbled at Ichigo's back.

"It reminds me of back then…at the camp, right before we left."

"Mmm," Grimmjow grunted. They walked up three flights of stairs, to rows of brightly coloured classrooms. Ichigo definitely remembered camping out here now, going to sleep one night laughing to himself at the image of Grimmjow sleeping on colourful mats and using a children's plush toy as a pillow.

"This it is," he said when he saw the number. The door was shut. He glanced through the glass to see several patients on mattresses on the floor. He took a breath and hesitated before taking the handle.

"Geeze, after everything we've done you're nervous now?" Grimmjow grabbed the door handle and shoved it open. He'd brushed past Ichigo but paused a moment when the scent of the room hit him. He'd complained about the lobby but in here, it was clear certain patients were incontinent or unable to take care of such things themselves and there were not enough helping hands to keep things clean.

"Fuck," Grimmjow didn't hide his disgust, putting a hand up to his face. Ichigo entered behind him, and surveyed those on the ground. He saw at the very back of the room, the African American on the floor, and the heavily scarred man sitting cross-legged next to him.

His eyes didn't lift until they were standing above him. Even then, it seemed to take the old soldier a long time to register who was before him.

"Well fuck," Ihara said, smiling up at them. He gripped the wall behind him and stood stiffly, moving as if he'd aged twenty years since they'd last met. His hands shook from nerve damage, as he stretched out to take each of theirs in turn. His grip weak but his eyes firm.

"Well boys, I gotta say I thought you were dead men that day you left."

"I told you I wouldn't fuckin' die," Grimmjow spat back.

"Yes, as I recall we had a hand of cards to finish, hollow. Thing is, though, I don't have a pack on me."

"I ain't playing cards in this shit-hole anyway."

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo whacked his arm.

"What? It fuckin' stinks in here."

"Just shut up." Ichigo ignored the scowl he got and looked to the man on the floor. "So he…never improved?"

"He hears me sometimes, I can tell. But he can't speak, and I've never really been sure if he doesn't understand the Japanese, or if he just doesn't understand because…well, you know."

Ichigo looked down at Donovan's face. The last time he'd seen him most had been hidden under bandages but now his torn-up features were open for all to see. Half his face was sunken, probably mostly from the missing teeth, but that skin was also pockmarked with scars and it made his whole face seem misshapen.

"He doesn't walk?"

Ihara shook his head. "He doesn't really do much of anything. I expected him to slip away on us for weeks, but he never did. It was as if was waiting for something. Maybe that promise you made him."

"Well, it came true now. Have you told him?"

Ihara nodded but he stepped away from Donovan's side. "But maybe you should tell him yourself."

"I will. Hey Grimmjow…could you—"

"Yeah, I felt her spiritual pressure. I'll be back."

He stepped past bodies and left the crowded room. Ihara stepped away to get some water. Ichigo knelt down and picked up Donovan's limp hand. He looked down the sheets. He could see enough of the American to see how much his body had wasted in this year. He could feel the slackness of his muscles, and knew they hadn't been used much or at all.

Being trapped like this, in a broken body, it was the ultimate suffering in Ichigo's eyes. He'd been through what most would consider Hell, but it was nothing, compared to this.

"Hey Donovan," he said, leaning lower. "It's me, Ichigo. I'm back now, because I kept my promise. I did what I said and I took him down. The world's free now. We're all free. We won."

He kept that hand held tight, but he got no reaction. Ihara limped back his way and used Ichigo's shoulder to help him lower himself back to Donovan's side.

"Sorry, kid, but he just not with it."

"You've been with him this entire time, haven't you, Ihara?"

"He's one of my men—the last of my men, other than that coward Raito. I had to stay with him."

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. I never told you how sorry I was, about Ogawa and Shen."

"We all knew the risks that day. The thing is, we all went in not knowing if our sacrifices would be worth it. But it was—all of it—everything we did was worth it because you did what you said you would. You freed the entire world, kid. You're a hero."

"No more than the rest of you." Ichigo lowered Donovan's hand. "And you both deserve better than this."

"Unfortunately this is the cost of war. This is just the way things are."

Ichigo smiled sadly at him but while Ihara looked at him his expression slowly changed. "I thought you had a scar there," he pointed to his forehead and then cocked his head, "and didn't you lose that ear?"

The classroom door opened, Grimmjow returned with someone else in tow.

"You're right, Ihara, war has a terrible cost, but this time, things don't have to be this way."

"What are you talking about?"

Ichigo stood. Ihara looked up at him and watched him interlock fingers with the newcomer, still bewildered by Ichigo's flawless features.

"I want you to meet someone, Ihara." Ichigo drew the girl next to him closer. "Her name is Orihime."

"Orihime," Irhara repeated, "we'll I'm glad you found such a pretty young girl, kid, you deserve to be happy."

"Thank you, but Orihime isn't just my girlfriend, she was one of the most essential soldiers in this war."

Ihara's eyebrows raised, surveying the softly-smiling, slender young woman who looked far from a hardened warrior. "Really?"

"Oh get on with it, will you?" Grimmjow barked behind them. "Do your thing, woman."

Ihara's eyes creased with confusion. He looked to Grimmjow now, and the espada's scowl turned into a slow smile. He stretched out his hand, and flexed his fingers. "Did I ever tell you, old man, how I once lost my arm?"

"What? You're making no sense."

"Orihime," Ichigo let go of her hand. "Please."

"Of course," she said sweetly and looked down on Ihara and Donovan. "It's nice to meet you both, I've heard so much about you," she raised her hands, "now please, don't move."

"Um…what—"

"I reject!"

* * *

The communal bathroom with its low sinks and urinals meant for children below age ten was hardly private, but at the moment, only two people occupied it. Ichigo stood behind a man who was staring at himself in the mirror, touching along his rigid jawline in disbelief.

"It's like a dream," he said for the second or third time, backing away from the mirror and inspecting the rest of his body which had been wasted and immobile an hour ago. "A nightmare really…I wasn't…it was like I was there but not. You say it was less than a year, but it felt like ten."

The tall, young American turned away from his reflection and back to Ichigo. "I don't know what to say, Ichigo."

"There's nothing to say. You sacrificed yourself for me, Donovan. I owe you everything. The world owes you everything."

"As I remember it, I failed. You should be dead because of me."

"Shut up, Donovan. I'm not just talking about that moment. You got me through a lot."

Donovan brushed these heavy words aside and opened his arms. Ichigo stepped into the broad embrace, feeling the renewed strength in the arms that closed around him.

"I'm sorry it took so long," he said. "But I'm glad you hung on until Orihime could heal you."

"Me too." Donovan stepped back. "But what now?"

"Why don't we talk about that with the others? You ready?"

Donovan nodded. He followed Ichigo back to the room where he'd been, now full of jubilant, incredulous men and women. Orihime had already moved onto another room, but Ichigo saw Ihara still here, trying to help other men cope with their miraculous recoveries. He himself was looking better than the first time Ichigo had met him. He even looked a shade younger, but that might just have been because the weight of so much pain had been lifted.

"That's quite the girl you've got there, Kurosaki," he grinned and stepped away from the man he'd been speaking with. "Could have used her a while back."

"I know," Ichigo admitted. "She and some friends of mine did the same as me and hid their identities when they were captured. It took me a long time to track her down. I could have used her a lot sooner too."

"I bet." Ihara looked Donovan over and smiled wider. "But I guess later is better than never. I don't think I'll ever quite grasp this spiritual realm shit. But what now? You gonna tell us how you did it? How you won?"

"You know most of it already don't you? And it wasn't just me. It was people like you who stood up when I needed them to."

"Well that was a bullshit response," Ihara jabbed. "We want more details than that, kid."

"You'll get them," Ichigo conceded, "but not right now. I want you to go back to my family's home. It's a bit crowded right now, with everyone staying there, but we'll make room for the two of you. Stay there for now, and I promise I'll give you the whole story when I can."

"Okay, deal. Show us the way," Ihara answered.

"Actually, can you go back with Orihime? I have something I have to do before I go home."

"Of course."

"Thanks." Ichigo shook Ihara's hand and Donovan gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"You know this means you'll have to take me up on my offer now right?" he said. Ichigo thought a moment, before remembering.

"America?"

Donovan nodded. "When everything is settled, you'll come visit. I'll show you all the sites."

Ichigo smiled, remembering the dream he'd once thought to be an impossible future. "I'm looking forward to it."

They parted ways. Ichigo spoke with Orihime briefly but left her to her work. He knew no matter how exhausted she might become, that once she'd started healing people here she wouldn't be able to stop until everyone was well again.

When he got outside, he spotted Grimmjow on the front steps.

"I'll meet you at home," Ichigo tried to say casually but got no more than a foot away before the argument came.

"What? I ain't hanging out with your loser family by myself."

"Grimmjow you've been sleeping there for two weeks. You should know them well enough by now you can go there without me."

"That ain't the point! I don't wanna deal with your idiot father or those brat sisters of yours."

Ichigo didn't even bother getting offended. He stopped on the steps and turned back. "Then go hunt hollows or something. That's your responsibility now, remember? All those hollows who escaped to hide in the World of the Living during the war still need to be rounded up and sent back to Hueco Mundo. Soul Reapers don't have time to do it and we can't risk them getting killed and upsetting the balance."

"You don't have to fuckin' explain it to me, I know. I said I'd take care of it and I will, but I want to know where the fuck you're going."

"I just have to take care of something."

"What something?"

His eyes swept over Ichigo's tense stance. He was back in human form now, hands in pockets, sweat on his neck and brow.

"I see. This place wasn't the only location Rukia gave you, was it?"

"No, it wasn't." Ichigo drew the old, wrinkled photo from his pocket. "I owe him this much."

"You paid that back when you ended Ywach."

"It's just different, okay, Grimmjow? I have to do this, and I have to do it on my own. I'll see you back at the clinic."

Grimmjow stared him down a moment longer before relenting. "Fine. Later."

He sonidoed away. Ichigo looked down at the lined photograph, those soft, sad features he'd long ago memorized in anticipation of this day.

It took him two hours to walk to the district Rukia had written on the sheet of paper. In soul reaper form, he could have gotten here in minutes, but he didn't think that was right. This was a human matter, and he intended to resolve it through human means.

He was tired and the sky was darkening by the time he reached the rural outskirts of the Tokyo sub-district he'd been looking for. He walked through a devastated park, past smashed shrines and the shambles of a bridge into a housing district that had suffered damage but still contained several intact homes. With relief, he found the one he'd been searching for even still had lights on the inside.

He stepped up to the porch and knocked on the door. He heard voices on the other side, then curtains pulled back, and finally a young woman whose face he knew so well, stood on the other side of the door before him. Older people hovered in a kitchen behind her, probably her parents. They listened, but somehow she knew Ichigo had come to see her.

His voice failed him those first few seconds. Instead of addressing her, he reached out and held the tattered photo before her.

Her shaking hands pulled it from his. She held her own image, eyes welling up with bright, crystal tears and turned it over to see what was left of the message she had written there long ago.

"Where is he?" She asked finally, through choking breaths. "Where is Satoru?"

"Satoru Yoshida saved my life," Ichigo began. "We were taken to the prison world at the same time."

"But he didn't come back with you?"

Ichigo shook his head. She bowed hers, streams of tears running down her face, but after only a moment, she raised her head again and stepped back from the door.

"Come in."

He did. He didn't know how much to tell her about him. In truth, all he knew was that he'd been injured before being put in the prison world, and that it had taken him two painfully long days to die, while Ichigo had been unconscious just a few feet from him. He knew his body had been burned while wearing Ichigo's clothes. He knew there was nothing left of him now but a memory and the photo he had given the girl.

"How did he die?" She asked.

He told him what he knew.

"So you didn't really even know him?"

"No."

"Then how did he save your life? How did you have this photo?"

"Because I became him. I was Satoru Yoshida for weeks. I had to hide who I was, and so I took his clothes and his identity. It's a debt I can never repay."

She stared at him. She set the photo down on the table between where they sat and looked to it for a long moment before returning her gaze to him.

"You're Ichigo Kurosaki, aren't you? The one who returned to lead the rebellion. The one who defeated that terrible man."

He nodded.

"Then you've already repaid it." She rose, wiping her eyes. "Thank you."

"Wait," he rose too. She stood stiffly with her back to him. She was trying to contain her tears in front of a stranger. "There was another photo in his wallet. He had a little sister right? And parents. I went to their home but there was no one there. Do you know how to find them?"

Her shoulders tightened. She only half turned back to face him. "I guess…they're all together now."

She left the room. He stood alone, in the house of a stranger, in place of a young man who would never return here again.

* * *

"I thought you were taking hollows back to Hueco Mundo."

"I thought you were done crying," Grimmjow returned, dropping from the roof where he'd been perched a few blocks from the young woman's home. Ichigo wiped his eyes.

"Why'd you even come here?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Why did you come here in human form?"

Now Ichigo shrugged.

"Come on, get out of your body and we can move faster."

"No," Ichigo protested. "I don't want to get back to the house too fast. Let's just walk."

"I guess," Grimmjow shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants. Since the end of the war they'd been so busy he hadn't even had time to go back to Las Noches for new clothes so he continued to wear human ones. Ichigo wondered if he'd return to that style, or even to Las Noches for that matter. After all this time together and with their allies, it seemed impossible for him to return to that isolation. But Ichigo didn't think about that now. There were too many other things on his mind and it would be a long while before Grimmjow finished his work in rounding up stray hollows. He wouldn't worry about it until then.

"Where are Donovan and Ihara gonna sleep?" Grimmjow asked, annoyed. "It's already fucking crowded in there."

"Grimmjow, I'm not going to make them stay at a shelter after everything. We'll find room."

"Whatever. Your world is a fuckin' mess."

"I know."

"It's gonna be hard for hollows to catch a meal, now that everyone can see 'em."

"Great, that's what you're worried about?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "I just mean it's all gonna be different now."

"Yeah, it is."

They walked in silence after that. It took even longer to make the walk this time, because Ichigo was tired and several of the streets in the direction of the clinic had been cut off. They passed the ruins of Urahara Shoten. Grimmjow's eyes drifted that way, Ichigo's did not. They had to clamber over the ruins of a bridge that now lay in the river bed, just above the water enough to be a treacherous walkway to cross. They passed the place where Ichigo's mother had died years ago, on the day that was perhaps really the beginning of it all.

And then they came to the one place on their street full of life. Many of the damaged homes nearby had been abandoned, but here, the lights were on, the house was full of life, the sounds of talking and cooking spilled out to the street. Grimmjow sighed in feigned annoyance.

"Better be Yuzu cooking and not Orihime," he muttered.

"Grimmjow."

"What?"

"I never thanked you for—"

"Oh fuck off with the sentimental shit, okay?" Grimmjow grabbed his coat collar and hauled him up the steps of the clinic. "Let's just fuckin' eat something."

"Grimmjow—"

"What?"

"I want to go back."

"Where?"

"You know where. I want to go back and make my peace with that place. With Satoru Yoshida, Kaito, Ogawa, Shen."

"There's no point."

"I just want to okay? So much happened there. I just need to go, one more time. Will you go with me, when things are settled here?"

Grimmjow stared him down a moment and shook his head. "You're so weird. It's in the past kid, just let it all go."

"I plan to, but that's how I think I can do it."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Fine, if it means you'll stop acting like such a cry-baby I guess it would be worth it."

"Thanks."

"Whatever. Can we fucking go in now?"

"Yeah, let's eat."

They entered the house and shut the door on the broken streets, the empty houses and all the reminders of this world's suffering. They joined friends and family and enjoyed everything they'd fought so hard to save.

And in the end, it took more than a year for things to stabilize enough for them to travel back to the prison world. And it was harder than either expected, to see everything just as it had been left, an entire, silent world that stood a monument and everlasting reminder of what had happened.

It took even longer, for Ichigo to make the trip to America, and by then he was no longer a kid, and hardly even a Soul Reaper since Grimmjow kept the Hollows in line in Hueco Mundo and strangely, after the worst war of their time, there was virtual peace among the worlds.

And stranger still Grimmjow never really left for good, even after years passed. He took over Hueco Mundo, but Ichigo often found him on the porch of his new home, late at night, just watching the sky, or the life that now filled re-built streets and buildings. Ichigo knew that part of the reason he always returned was simply the habit that had formed after years at each other's side. But more, he knew it was because Grimmjow had never really stopped counting. He was always watching for signs of the next thing that would try to rip the world apart.

But Ichigo did not. He'd stopped counting long ago. He'd learned what humanity was capable of doing—from its darkest soul to its purest. And he knew now, how that played out, every time. He trusted in that narrative—the age-old triumph of good over evil—and if he ever began to feel the smallest doubt, he comforted himself in knowing Grimmjow was always watching.

And that was perhaps what he trusted in most of all.

Ichigo never forgave himself for killing that last soldier in the prison world, but he learned to live with it, just as he learned to live with peace, and a wife, and the responsibilities of a human life. Most of all, after everything that happened, he simply learned how to balance the good with the bad, the right with the wrong, who he used to be with who he'd become.

Ichigo Kurosaki became a name in history books, but for him, he'd never really found that person again after the day he became Satoru Yoshida. But that was okay, because Ihara had once told him there was a cost to war, and he knew that was it for him.

He accepted it, because with that burden came freedom for everyone he loved. With that price, came a future that had been nearly wiped away.

Even though it took him years to accept all this, on that night that he and Grimmjow returned home and dined with his family and friends, he knew happiness again. And later, when he and Grimmjow sat outside on the front step, he turned to his friend and smiled.

"What now?" Grimmjow said as he struck a light.

"Nothing. I'm just glad we didn't miss the meal."

"Yeah, no thanks to you," he sucked back on his cigarette. They didn't speak again for a while. When Grimmjow's smoke was done, he stretched and rose. "Well, I got a card game to settle."

"Good luck."

"As if I need it. You want in?"

"No, that's between you and Ihara. I'll stay out here a little longer."

"Suit yourself."

Grimmjow went in. Ichigo settled back on the step and stared at the sky.

Things weren't perfect, but right now, he thought maybe someday they could be.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **Thank you all so much for your support in this story. It took me a while (as usual) to decide on how to do the ending. I decided to do it a little differently than my other endings, in giving a bit larger scope of their future from the ending on. Hope you liked it. I almost didn't want to show them outside of the prison world, but that wouldn't have concluded everyone's story properly. I also didn't want to show them in the midst of battle with all of their spiritual powers, because I felt that would be out of place after the rest of this story. I am tempted to write some scenes about Grimmjow and Ichigo building the resistance, but I don't think I will. I think I'm done with this story, and I'll probably be taking a little break from writing for the holidays, maybe even a bit longer. I intend to come back to my two unfinished stories and add some more chapters to them when I'm back in the writing mood, but I don't have plans for publishing any lengthy stories at the moment. I have lots of stories started, but none are really grabbing me right now, so it's probably best to take a break for a while.**_

 _ **Thanks everyone, please leave your final thoughts on this story in the reviews. I wish you all a happy holiday season!**_

 _ **Riza Winters.**_


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